Love Across Time
by TheWerdna
Summary: Collection of oneshots focusing on the relationship between Robin and Lucina, along with their family, both during and after the game's events. In continuity with A Future Disowned. Assorted background ships.
1. I'm Here Now

**Author's Note:** Hello guys and gal, welcome to the start of my little oneshot collection. This one shot collection will mostly focus on Robin x Lucina during and after the game's events (because we _totally_ needed another one of those on top of the billion out there already, right?). Most of these one shots will be in continuity with my other ongoing story, _A Future Disowned_, though most will not deal directly this that stories events, so you do not have to read it to follow along (however, I would encourage reading it anyways, because I am very biased in that regard. Read my other story too, dammit!). When it does tie in I will make a note at the start that it involves spoilers for that story and that it does directly tie in.

I plan to have a header at the top of each one-shot giving its title, a brief summery of what its about, and a note stating where it falls into the timeline and what it spoils, if any. This collection probably won't see regular updates until afte_r A Future Disowned_ is finished, since I am focusing my efforts on that story for the foreseeable future. However, if inspiration strikes me there very well might be a one-shot or two showing up here prior to that point. As always, please give any feedback you may have, even if its just to tell me "man, you suck". Any and all suggestions and criticisms will help me become a better writer.

* * *

**Title:** _**I'm Here Now**_

**Description:** The night after Robin returned from sacrificing himself to kill Grima, Robin and Lucina reflect on the impact the choice he made has had over the past two year, and on the nature of their relationship

**Notes: **Takes place two years after the events of _Fire Emblem Awakening_, and two months prior to the start of _A Future Disowned. __**Note: spoilers for the end of FE:A**_

* * *

Robin stared up at the ceiling with a smile on his face.

_He was back!_

Two years had passed since he'd sacrificed his life to kill Grima, and he was back. Two years… he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. It had both felt like only a few seconds had passed and like an eternity between when he'd vanished and awoken again in the same field Chrom had found him years before.

_Exactly five years to the day, in fact. Funny how things work. _

Smiling deeper, Robin turned his head, gazing at the woman nuzzled at his side. _Lucina_. His return had brought many tear-filled reunions, none as important as when he'd embraced his wife once more. However, they hadn't had time to truly take it all in then, the celebrations with all his other friends taking up most of the day. It was only after that the two of them had been able be alone, spending much of the night in celebrations of a more passionate kind.

Lucina lay curled at her side, her eyes fixed on him and smiling contently. He could tell she was fighting against sleep now. Occasionally he would see her eyelids flutter and head droop as she began to slip into unconsciousness, only to jerk awake once more.

"Lucina, you should get some rest. It's late," he told her, reaching out place a hand against the side of her face.

Lucina placed her slimmer hand over his, holding it in place. "I don't want to. I'm so happy. I'm afraid this is all a dream, and that when I wake up you'll be gone again. I don't think I could bear it." Her voice faltered.

"You had dreams like that before?" he asked hesitantly, a lump forming in his throat. The last thing he wanted it to make her recall painful memories.

She nodded. "I'd dream that you were here with me, that we were happy. But every time I woke up, you weren't there…"

Robin pulled his hand away, suddenly feeling hesitant to touch her, the full weight of the pain he'd caused her crashing down on him like a tidal wave. "I'm sorry, I'd known my decision wouldn't be easy for you, but I never imagined..." he trailed off, words failing him.

A moment passed in silence before Lucina spoke, her voice hollow. "After you were gone… I tried to tell myself I should be happy, that what had happened was for the best. I told myself that I'd done what I'd set out to do, accomplished my task beyond my wildest expectations. Grima wasn't just sealed away, he was gone forever. Never again would my future come to pass, never again would he hurt anyone else..." Lucina blinked, fighting back the tears glistening in her steel blue eyes. "I've watched so many die for the "greater good", I had to learn long ago that sacrifices were necessary. How dare I be selfish then, putting my own happiness over what was best for the world? How dare I let one life make me falter from what needed to be done? But I-"

Her voice faltered as she choked back a sob. "But I couldn't do it. I found myself wishing that things had occurred differently. That I'd been selfish, begged you not to give your own life, damn what my duty said." Tears fell down her face now, glistening trails of silver in the pale moonlight that streamed in through the window. "I hadn't even told you how dear you were to me. Never told you how- how you were my biggest motivation to save this world, to have a chance to be happy with you. To be start a family… to grow old together… And then you were gone, and I'd never told you..."

"Hey," he said, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. "Its alright Lucina, I'm here now.I have no intention of ever leaving you again. When I promisedI was going to support you for the rest of my life, no matter what happens, I meant every word." He smiled softly at her, adding, "you mean too much for me leave you alone."

Lucina buried her face against his chest, wrapping her arms tighter around him. "I was so lonely," she whispered, nuzzling in closer as she spoke.

"You saved me, you know," he whispered, holding her tighter.

Lucina lifted her head, surprise at his words clear in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"When I… when I was gone, I was nothing. I didn't even exist anymore," Robin explained, choosing his words carefully. "As I drifted in the void, I felt my bonds with everyone tugging on me, they were the only thing left that tied me to the world. But they weren't enough, I was slipping away, falling deeper and deeper into nothingness."

He leaned down, resting his forehead against her's, speaking softly now. "Then I remembered your voice, heard you crying out for me stay with you, for me not to go. I remembered your face, remembered all the moments we shared. You pulled me back from the brink, Lucina, you gave me meaning. I remembered not only how much you needed me, but how much _I_ needed you."

Robin was silent for several long moments, considering his next words carefully. Words had always come easily to him, knowing exactly what he needed to say. But this, this was important, what he said now had to be perfect. They had to convey his every feeling. "You are my light, Lucina. Whenever I lost faith or faltered, you were there to pick me up, to give me reason to keep fighting. Without you… I would have failed long ago." He felt tears of his own pool in his eyes, a mist seeming to fall over the world. "Whenever I feel weak or helpless, I think of you, how after all you suffered you still remain strong and kind, how you are the glimmer of hope against a world of hopelessness."

He pausing, gently stroking her hair. "Since as long as I can remember, I felt lost, unsure of who or what I am. But when I'm with you, I feel like for the first time I know who am. That I'm the man you love, and that is all I ever need me be…" his own voice faltered now, a single tear running down his cheek. "I need you Lucina, I need you more than the air I breath."

Lucina shifted, loosening her head from under his chin and meet his gaze with her own. "Robin, I… hearing you say that… I never said it enough before but… I love you beyond all else." She leaned up, pressing her lips against his in a long, gentle kiss.

"I know," Robin answered as they at last broke away. He wrapped his arms around her just as she clung to him, pulling her into a warmer embrace. "Come on, lets go to sleep. I promise I'll be there in the morning. I'm here now, and I'll never leave you again…" he whispered. Nuzzled together the two soon drifted into a deep slumber, contented smiles on both of their faces.

Together they were complete.


	2. Lovebirds

**Title:** _Lovebirds_

**Description:** Lucina, still fresh in her relationship with the Shepherds' Tactician, is unable to find him anywhere in camp and goes looking for him. However, she was not prepared for just what Robin managed to get himself into this time.

**Notes:** Takes place during the Valm arc, two weeks following Robin and Lucina achieving S-support and a few days before Morgan is recruited.

* * *

"Robin?" Lucina called out, cupping her hands to either side of her face to amplify her voice.

No reply came other than the rustle of the wind through the green canopy overhead and the fading echos of her own voice.

Frowning, Lucina continued further into the tree-line, pausing every so often to once again call out the absent tactician's name. _Where was he? He wasn't been anywhere at the Shepherd's camp, none of the others knew where he'd gotten off to. _

Worry gnawed at Lucina's gut with each step she took. _This wasn't like him to leave without telling anyone. What if something happened? What if he… _she bit her lip, forcing herself to abandon the thought before its completion.

She was scared, an icy dread that had proved a constant companion in the past two weeks. No, longer, it had started before that, when she first realised her growing feelings for her father's tactician. Those feelings terrified her, for the first time since her parents had died, she had someone she could lose. Someone more than a friend or ally… whose death would surely shatter her into pieces.

Lucina stopped again, lifting her head and calling out once more. "Robin?".

For several long moments there came no reply, But then, just as she was about to turn away, she heard a voice speaking from what seemed to be a great distance. "Lucina?" There was no mistaking the voice, it belonged to Robin.

"Robin? Where are you?" Lucina called back, frowning. Where was it coming from? It didn't sound like he was somewhere in the forest surrounding her, it was almost as if…

"Up here."

Slowly Lucina raised her gaze, her jaw falling open in what she could only describe as dumbfounded awe as she beheld the tactician's predicament. In the branches of a tree nearly thirty feet above was Robin, perched a branch. Leaves and broken twigs stuck out from his hair and disheveled clothes, his face and hands covered with scrapes and scratches. Yet from the sheepish grin he wore and the nervous wave of greeting, it was clear he was far more embarrassed than harmed.

For a long moment Lucina just stared at him blankly, working to gather her scattered wits. "Robin…" she managed at last, covering her face with the palm of her hand. "...why are sitting up in a tree?"

"Well… funny story about that," Robin called back, his works punctuated by nervous laughter. "You see, I borrowed some tomes from Meriel so I could learn some new spells. As it so happens one of those might have had something to do with flight."

"... you didn't…" Lucina breathed, realising at once where this was going.

"How was I supposed to know it was going to be way harder to control than I thought it would. The spell looked so easy," Robin shouted back, crossing his arms defensively.

"Why didn't you just fly down after you crashed?" Lucina asked, shaking her head. Gods, how could a man so smart act so stupid and childish at times.

"I dropped the tome when I… landed…. Look, the point is I dropped it over there." He pointed at a spot at other side of the tree.

Circling along the outside of the trunk, Lucina found the dark gray tome lying in the dirt between two tangled roots. Bending down she retrieved the book, dusting off its cover before returning back to other side of the tree. "Found it."

"Great, do you think you can throw it up to me?" Robin asked.

"Wouldn't it be easier for me just to go get help?" Lucina asked. "I'm sure my mother or another pegasus knight could fly you down easily enough.

"I'd… I'd prefer it if no one else knew about this, if possible…" Robin answered, his face turning bright red as he rubbed the back of his neck. "This is embarrassing."

Nodding, Lucina took a step back. "Alright, I'm going to throw it up. Tell me when you are ready."

"Go for it!" Robin called back.

Pulling her arm back, Lucina threw the tome as hard as she could. The gray book sailed through the air, her aim carrying it right to where Robin sat amongst the branches…

_Thunk._

Reacting an instant too late, Robin's free hand passed through empty air as the heavy tome smacked against his forehead. The impact sent him reeling back, and he would have fallen not for the arm already wrapped around another branch.

A moment later the tome landed back at Lucina's feet, kicking up miniature cloud of dust and dirt.

"Ow," Robin replied at last, wincing visibly as he rubbed her forehead.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you any harm. I shouldn't have thrown it so hard," Lucina called back to him, shaking her head profusely.

"It's alright Lucina, it didn't hurt that badly," Robin assured her, waving a hand before him assure her he was fine. "Try throwing it again. If that doesn't work maybe you can find something to break my fall or…"

Lucina frowned as the tactician continued to list off ideas for how to best get him out of his current predicament without resorting to the informing the other Shepherds and the embarrassment it would bring. Scanned the tree, she saw that was lowest branch was more than fifteen feet above her, with the next one not much further up than that. It was a long shot, but it looked like she could reach them.

"Hold on, I have a better idea.." Setting the tome down on the grass, Lucina unbuckled Falchion from her belt, setting it against the base of the tree along with her cloak. Both of them would just get in her way. Retrieving the book, she stepped several feet back, taking a deep breath to prepare herself.

Clearly Robin must have realised what she was doing, as his eyes widened suddenly. "Lucina, this is really not necessary, I am sure we can-"

Before he could even finish Lucina charged forward, breaking into a full sprint towards the tree. With a shout she pushed off of the ground, propelling herself up into the air. At the apex of her leap she pressed her boots against the tree, twisting around as she kicked off. Covering the last few feet to grab hold of the branch, heaving with all her strength even as the last of her momentum carried her forward to swing up onto the branch.

Crouching, she waited there for another moment before she jumped up again, grabbing hold of the second branch just a few feet above her head. "You worry too much, Robin," Lucina called out, pulling herself up. "I knew it wouldn't be a problem for me to-"

A sharp crack drowned out the rest of what she'd been going to say. A sudden lurch nearly tore her grip from the branch, barely managing to hang on with her free hand as the branch bent down under her weight, wood splitting and cracked at the joint. The sudden jolt knocked the tome from her, hands, the book falling to the dirt as she dangled.

"Lucina!" Robin cried again.

Before he or she could do anything there was another loud snap, the branch breaking. Lucina yelped in helpless fear, her eyes squeezing shut as she began to fall.

The sound of another crash reached her ears, following be an deep thud as the broken branch smashed into the earth. Yet rush of wind and sudden agony she'd been expecting never came, even the sound of the impact seeming to have come from further off than it should have. Slowly Lucina opened her eyes, finding herself dangling far off of the ground. At the foot of the tree were two broken branches, the lower arm of the tree having been broken by the other as it fell. It was then that she realised that a hand was clamped tightly around her wrist, hanging onto her with such fierceness that hurt.

Looking up, she was Robin staring down at her, dangling from where he had both an arm and a leg wrapped around a branch above them. _He must has jumped down when I started to fall, _Lucina realised. _He could have killed himself too, if he hadn't managed to grab hold of the branch… _

"It's alright, I've got you," Robin breathed, a nervous laugh falling from his lips. Straining visibly, he pulled her up to branch, joining her a moment later. "Lucina, that was reckless and stupid and dangerous and…" The tactician trailed off, shaking his head.

"I'm… I'm fine," Lucina assured him, her voice wavering. Her narrow brush with death had shaken her more than she like. "Dammit, what was I thinking. I could have gotten you killed, trying to-"

Robin put a hand on her arm to silence her, smiling gently. "Its okay, Lucina, neither of us were hurt. I was just scared..." For a long moment Robin said nothing, a seconds passing into minutes as neither spoke. When at last Lucina looked towards him, she saw that the tactician's gaze was on where the flight tome had landed on the ground after being dropped, far out of their reach.

"Looks like we aren't getting down from here any time soon," he noted at last, frowning deeply.

"Gods, I'm sorry, It's my fault." Lucina shook her head. _How had she been that stupid._

"I'm as much as fault for getting us both stuck in this mess. I _was_ the idiot who got stuck in this tree in the first place, you know." Robin said, chuckling softly at what Lucina guessed was the ridiculousness of the whole situation. "This could have all been solved if I'd just swallowed my pride and let you go get help. Now the others are going to find out for sure, so I'll just have to live with that bit of embarrassment."

"I suppose it _can't_ be helped now. But this way you won't have to face it alone," Lucina replied. Smiling she leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. "How long do you think it will take before the others realise we are missing?"

"Not too long, I hope…" Robin sighed, shaking his head again. "An hour, maybe two at the most…"

Nodding, Lucina closed her eyes, brushing up closer against him. "Then perhaps it is not all bad then. It is rather hard to find time alone for just the two of us."

"I suppose you're right. What an odd couple we must make stuck in a three and…" Robin trained off suddenly, then burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the surrounding forest. ...two lovebirds in a tree. Its so perfect. Lovebirds, in a tree." He continued to laugher, his entire body wracked with such merriment that Lucina almost feared he would fall from the branch supporting them.

"It is an amusing thought, though I do not see how it is _that_ funny," Lucina said, gripping the tactician's arm to keep him from toppling over.

"No, you see, its a play on words. And birds sit in trees and… " Robin's voice was lost in more laughter, several moments passing before he'd regained control of himself. "I'm sorry, just after the whole lunacy of all this, I couldn't help myself. That our lives are so weird that this is, well, normal."

"I don't think things can ever be normal with the two of us together. Abnormality is the curse we must bear together," Lucina replied, grinning despite herself as she two considered all the craziness that had befallen them at of late. "And I wouldn't change it for anything."

"Yeah," Robin said, grinning as well. "Just wait until we have kids. It's going to be an adventure explaining that one."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, I was planning on getting back to focusing on this one now that _A Future Disowned_ has finished… which was four weeks ago. I really suck, but yeah, I am working on this now and sorry for the delay, the next one should be out sooner


	3. Nightmares

**Title:** Nightmares

**Description:** Two weeks have passed since the events of _A Future Disowned_ when Lucina is awoken by a storm. However, before she can fall back asleep she discovers that someone else was woken up too.

**Notes:** SPOILER WARNING! This involves major spoilers for the events of _A Future Disowned_. Not to mention that this was written assuming the reader has already read through that story, so it probably won't make a lot of sense if you haven't. You have been warned.

* * *

_Boom_.

Lucina's eyes snapped open, awoken with a start by the deep rumble of thunder. Gasping she sat upright, her racing mind taking several moments to realise where she was. She was in her room, Robin dozing next to her, the sound that had awoken her nothing more than a storm raging outside.

Another flash of light illuminated her bedroom, a second blast rattling the castle's windows. The rain was falling harder now, no longer the light drizzle that had accompanied much of the previous day.

Next to her Robin began to stir, woken by either the storm or her movement. Perhaps both. "Lucina," he slurred, still half asleep. "Only a storm… go back to sleep…"

Smiling at her husband's concern, Lucina lay back down, nuzzling herself against the tactician's side. He hummed contently, slipping an arm around her as she closed her eyes. It wasn't long before sleep began to take hold of her once more, the store seeming to slip further and further away as-

Without warning the door to their room burst open, their daughter Morgan scrambling inside, her coat flapping around her . "Father, Mother, come quick. It's Marc, I think he was having a nightmare and the storm woke him up." At once she grabbed hold of each of their arms, tugging frantically in an attempt to get them out of bed. "He started shaking and muttering to himself. I tried to talk to him, but he just ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there."

Throwing off her covers, Lucina rolled out of bed onto her feet. Her heart was racing now, all exhaustion vanishing in an instant. Robin scrambled upright, nearly tripped as Morgan continued to pull him with her.

"Come on, come on, we need to hurry, what if-" Morgan started to say, her pleading seeming to become more panicked with each passing instant.

However, before she could finish Robin clasped a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. "Relax, Morgan, It'll be okay."

"Yeah, duh,I know it will be. You two are the bestest most awesome parents ever, but we need to go and-"

"You aren't going anywhere," Robin interrupted, his grasp keeping Morgan rooted on the spot even as she flailed and stretched her arms towards the door. If not for the circumstances, Lucina would have found the scene would have been comical. "The three of us crowding around him at once won't help any." He turned to look Lucina's way now. "I'll calm down Morgan, you go talk to Marc."

"Right," Lucina nodded. At once she hurried out into the darkened hallway, falling into a dead sprint during the final steps before she reached her children's room.

While there palace had more than enough bedrooms to accommodate for Marc's arrival two weeks ago, she and Robin had decided it would be best if he shared a room with his sister for the time being. The hope had been that Morgan's company would do him some good, not to mention allow her to keep an eye on him. However, the later had seemed to be merely a secondary concern:the past fortnight had passed without incident. Or at least it had until tonight

Coming to a stop, Lucina latched onto the door handle at once, requiring every ounce of self control not to fling it open as hard as she could. If what Morgan said was true, she needed to remain calm and not make things worse by bursting inside.

Slowly and carefully she opened the door, doing her best to avoid making undue noise. Taking a deep breath she stepped inside.

Marc sat uprise on his bed, rocking back and forward as he clutched at the sides of his head. His eyes were wide open, staring off in the distance. Lightning flashed again outside, briefly illuminating the tears streaming down his face. Covers and pillows lay scattered across the floor, seeming to have been violently torn away as he'd awoken.

_Boom._ More thunder rolled overhead.

"Marc?" Lucina asked. Her son seemed to take notice of her words, making no sign that he was even aware of her presence as she approached his bedside.

She saw now that he was shivering, his shoulders bobbing with an occasional sob. It was only then that she could make out the the murmuring of his voice, so faint its whispers that she strained to make them out.

"... n-no, stop it...stop it… It wasn't my fault. I didn't want to do it, please, I didn't… I didn't… I didn't want to kill anyone. He made me do it, I didn't want to… he said if I didn't, he'd-"

"Marc," Lucina said again, reaching out to grip his forearm gently.

At once Marc jolted at her touch, as if snapped out of some deep trance. For an instant his eyes fell on her, terror filling his gaze as he began to scramble away, his breathing growing frantic.

"Marc, please, its me. It's alright, nothing is going to hurt you, I'm here. You're safe," Lucina told him, keeping her voice as calm and gentle as she could.

Slowly his expression softened, his breathing relaxing. "Mother I… I…" he hunched over, wrapping his arms around himself, pulling himself free from her grip. "I can't… I can't make the faces go away… why won't they go away?"

"Faces? What are you-"

"The people I killed, I see their faces!" Marc interrupted before she could finish, his voice rising to a shout. "Every time I sleep, every time I close my eyes. Haunting me for what I did and..."

Sobs wracked his entire body, his words fading into a wail filled with such regret and hopelessness it cut to bone of Lucina's very being. "... and I deserve it! I'm a monster. How much blood is on my hands? Gods, I can't even remember, I don't know how many I killed. How can you and father still love me after that… I'm not your son, you don't deserve to have a monster for a son… You must hate me and-"

Lucina grabbed Marc by the shoulders, pulling him into an embrace before he could continue his tirade of self-loathing. Despite his words claiming he did not deserve her affection, he clung to her as if she were the only branch floating in churning see, and that letting go would mean slipping under. He buried his head in her shoulder, tears staining her night clothes.

"It's alright, let it all out," Lucina murmured, rubbing his back while he cried against her. "I don't hate you. I'm just sad… sad that you've suffered so much and are in so much pain, and I fear that I can do little to help it"

"H-how… how come you don't hate me?" Marc pleaded through more sobs.

Lucina was silent for several long moments, pondering her next words carefully. Perhaps Robin would have known what to say, known exactly what would get through to him. _I need to know the full story,_ she realized. _Something she could use to make him see that he wasn't a bad person. A monster wouldn't cry like this, so consumed by the guilt and regret._

"Tell me, why did you agree to help Grima? He made you do those terrible things… how?"

"He… the first time he took me to take part in a battle, he ordered me kill a injured soldier. He was begging for his life… I didn't want to… I swear, I didn't want to… but Grima, he… he told me he'd kill Morgan if I didn't do what he said…" He sobbed again, squeezing his eyes shut. "I couldn't lose her too… I couldn't… I'd already lost you and… I killed him. Gods, I killed him…"

"Shhh, its okay, I'm here…" Lucina whispered, whipping the tears from his cheeks. "It wasn't your fault, you were scared and alone… you couldn't lose anyone else."

Marc made no response, though his trembling seemed to subside somewhat, his sobs falling less frequently.

"When I look at you, do you know what I see?" Lucina told him, continuing to rub his back "I see not a monster, but a brave, strong little boy who's been through so much. Who would stop at nothing to protect his sister." As she spoke Morgan lifted his head, gazing up at her with big, tear filled eyes. "Just remember, no matter what happened, your father and I will always be here for you. We love you."

Nodding slowly, Marc lowered his head once more to rest against her shoulder. Tears still streamed from his eyes, but he no longer cried openly. "Mother… I missed you…" he whispered softly, his words slurred as exhaustion took its hold over the boy more.

For how long they sat there in silence, Lucina could not say. Only the slowing of her son's breathing to a peaceful rhythm and the drying of the tears staining her nightclothes marked the passing of time. Marc lay motionless in her arms now but for the slow rise and fall of his chest, his expression now one of peace, having drifted off into sleep during the intervening time. The rumble of thunder was distant now, little more than a murmuring growl from the edge of the horizon.

Slowly Lucina stood, picking her son up with her as gently as she could to avoid waking him. _It's best if he stays with Robin and I for the rest of this night. _Carefully she carried Marc back to her and Robin's room as silently as she could, afraid even the tiniest noise would disturb her son's slumber.

Robin sat on the edge of their bed, his concerned expression relaxing as he noticed her and Marc. Meanwhile Morgan was already fast asleep, snoring softly from where she lay curled in Robin's chair.

"I'll take her back to her room," Robin mouthed, scooping up Morgan into his arms.

While she waited for her husband to return, Lucina gently lowered Marc down onto the bed Brushing his hair from his face, she leaned down

_Sleep well._

Lucina felt a smile tug at her lips as she watched her son rest free of the anguish that had plagued him but minutes before. Perhaps his scars were too deeply set and would never truly heal, but… but even if she couldn't help him overcome his past, she could still do everything in her might to give him a happier life now. The one he had been denied before.


	4. Birthdays and Anniversaries

**Title:** Birthdays and Anniversaries

**Description: **Seven years after the end of Fire Emblem: Awakening, Lucina celebrates her 25th birthday with her family.

**Notes: **Takes place five years after the events of _A Future Disowned_, so minor spoiler warning of you have no read that.

* * *

Lucina murmured contently, her eyelids fluttering as she drifted in and out of the gentle embrace of sleep. She basked in the warmth of the morning sun that shone upon her and Robin's shared bed. A cool spring breeze drifted in through the same open window as the golden rays of light, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers and fresh green leaves. Birds chirped their sweet music. Everything was perfect, another peaceful morning amongst the countless she'd been blessed with since returning to this timeline.

Pulling her covers tighter around her. she rolled back over to her side, dozing back off into a pleasant sleep that-

"Happy birthday Mommy!"

The shrill cries of laughter shattered the still, awaking Lucina as sure as a bucket of icy water. The bed shook and rattleed, bouncing her up and down like a storm-tossed sea. Clinging to the bedpost before she could be thrown free, Lucina scrambled around, searching for the two demons responsible for the sudden end of her rest.

"Happy birthday! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!" screeched the two small children doing their damnedest to throw her off of the bed, leaping up and down with increasing fervor.

"Morgan! Marc! Stop jumping on the bed this instant!"

"Awwwww," complained the twins, their bouncing slowly ceasing. "Fun burg-el-ar," Morgan added, crossing her arms with a _humph_.

A smile spread across Lucina's lips as she finally let go of her handhold. Dealing with Morgan's and Marc's older selves certainly hadn't prepared her for the beings of chaos and untold destruction who were their three year old, soon to be four in a month, counterparts.

Stretching her arms, Lucina looked around the bedroom of the home she and Robin had lived in for the past several years. Books and papers scattered the floor, centered around the side of the room her husband liked to keep his things. They'd been married for years and she still couldn't see how he could be so keen on keeping his things to themselves yet be so disorganized at the same time. Robin's side of the bed was empty, which was indeed fortunate given the twins' antics. Apparently he had gotten up some time ago.

"Did your father send you to wake me up?" Lucina asked, turning her attention back to the little ones.

"Yep!" Marc beamed, bobbing his head up and down. "Daddy said he was gonna be done soon, so you needed to wake up."

_Done soon?_ Lucina wondered, contemplating what her husband could be working on this early and-

_Oh gods._

"Son of a- Oh come on, why in gods name would that even happen!" Robin's shouted as if on cue, his voice carrying up from the kitchen downstairs. At that very instant she heard the crystalline sound of glass shattering, renewing her husbands ranting in full force. "Thrice damned, bloody, horse dung coated son of an-" The rest of whatever he'd been going to say was lost as more crashes, their thankfully metallic ringing indicating nothing else fragile had been broken.

It was then that Lucina detected the faint smell of smoke and burnt food, confirming without a shadow of doubt what the so-called master tactician was attempting to do.

"Your father is trying to cook breakfast for me, again, isn't he?" she asked, staring flatly towards the sounds of unknown chaos unleashed within her kitchen.

"Yep!" Morgan replied, grinning from ear to ear as she began to hop up and down on the bed again. "We wanted to help, but daddy said he didn't need it. That's why he put us on mission 'wake up Mommy'!"

_Gods, that man… I told him that he didn't have to… we barely managed to put out the fire last year. _Lucina groaned inwardly, covering her face with a hand in disbelief. _I should have known he'd take that as a challenge. _She sighed, resigned to her fate. There's nothing to do now but let the inevitable play out.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the wall outside the door, Robin stepping inside with a tray of food. Unlike the previous year, his face and hands were free of burns, so that was an improvement to say to least. "Happy twenty-fifth birthday! Sorry for taking so long, I had to clean up the- er, I mean, I made you breakfast." Robin greeted, grinning as he handed her the tray.

"So, I made toast and eggs, though I think I might of put too much salt in the later," he explained, pointing out the blackened slice bread and eggs at the center of her place. " I tried to make pancakes, but those burned. Oh, and the bacon burned too, but I used them to write this message, see!" He gestured to the top of the tray, where the words 'Happy B-day Lucina' was written out in charred crisps that Lucina would have never been able to even identify as bacon.

Despite her annoyance and the food that could be described as… well, unappetizing at best, Lucina's heart nearly skipped a beat at the thought her husband had put into the meal. Dubious the execution may be, the amount of genuine effort he put in it could not be denied.

Robin must have noticed her staring at the food, as his smile fading at once. "Gods, Lucina, I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did but… you know I'm a lousy cook and- I wanted to make up for last year and-"

"It's alright, I wasn't upset," Lucina interrupted. She smiled, blinking at the moistness in her eyes. Gods, he was actually worried she'd be upset with him. "The food looks… well, not very pleasant, but what matters is you did try. That's the only thing that I care about." She set the tray aside, leaning up to kiss him upon the lips in thanks.

"Ewww, gross!" Morgan stuck out her tongue at their open display of affection, Marc meanwhile covering his eyes with his off hands. the two ducked out of sight. Of course, _everyone_ knew that hiding under a bed was the only defense from the cooties.

"Ignoring them, Lucina wrapped her arms around Robin, squeezing him tightly for a moment before pulling away. "Come on, we need to get ready to visit my Father and Mother, remember?"

"How could I forgot," Robin replied. "But first…" Holding up a finger for her to wait, he hurried back to the door, reaching around the corner, retrieving a box wrapped in blue paper. "... why don't you open the present we picked out for you!" Robin grinned from ear to ear as he handed the parcel to her, pleased by her sudden look of surprise. "I know you're thinking that we should wait until the party this evening, but… well… I still need to make up for the whole breakfast thing."

Smiling Lucina unwrapped the box, her expression only brightening as she beheld its contents. Inside was a bright pink and lime green scarf, with yellow stars lining either end. "Its wonderful, Robin, it'll match the orange dresses I purchased for Morgan and myself on our last shopping trip," She hugged him again.

"Don't thank me, Morgan picked it out. She was adamant that you'd love it, so who were we to argue," Robin correct, turning his head to grin at where Morgan and Marc stood at the bedside, having withdrawn from their hiding once the present was brought out.

"Yep, I knew you'd love it mommy!" Morgan giggled.

"And I came up with getting you a scarf!" Marc added.

Holding out her arms, Lucina caught the twins as they leapt into her arms, their high-pitched laughter filling the air. "Truly, I sweetest family ever," she murmured, squeezing them tighter. "Thank you for the wonderful present, it means so much to Mommy. Now, you two go get dressed and meet Mommy and Daddy downstairs, okay?" Lucina told them, releasing them from her hug.

"Okay!" the two answered in unison, pushing and shoving eachother as they raced to be the first to their room.

Climbing out of bed, Lucina got dressed as well, picking out the simple azure toned dress Robin had given her as a gift two years previous. While a bit too formal and plain even by her tasteful and understated preferences when it came to clothing, it would be fitting for the occasion. Pausing for a moment to check her reflection in a mirror, she made her way downstairs, Robin staying in their bedroom to finish packing for the trip to Ylisstol.

Descending the stairs Lucina found the little ones already waiting for her… well, waiting was perhaps too strong a word. The two ricocheted around the room, knocking over chairs as they chased after one another. In their credit, they had gotten dressed like she'd told them, if not all too successfully: namely Marc's inside-out tunic and Morgan's lack of boots.

With a triumphant shout Morgan tackled Marc to the floor, sending them both tumbling into the last chair that as of yet remained standing. Tipping back onto its hind legs, the chair wobbled one, twice, then toppled over with clatter _thunk_.

"Honestly, you two, perhaps you could just attempt to stay still for a single moment," Lucina scolded. Pulling them apart, she directed them to stand to either side of her, and hopefully away from each other long enough to fix their apparel.

Raising Marc's arms up over his head, Lucina tugged off his tunic, turning it right side out, before pulling it back down over his head. Seeing no other issues, Lucina turned her attention to Morgan. _Boots, where are the- ah, there. _Her daughter's boots sat undisturbed next to the door. Clearly she hadn't even attempted to put them on. Retrieving them, Lucina returned to where Morgan stood. Righting a nearby chair, she plopped her daughter down onto it. "Stop squirming, dear," Lucina instructed, working the boots onto Morgan's feet. Once finished doing up the laces, Lucina stepped back, examining her handiwork.

"There, now you both appear presentable for visiting Grandma and Grandpa. Now we just need to wait for your father and-"

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Morgan interrupted, tugging on her arm.

"There should be food in the kitchen, dear," Lucina told her.

Nodding, Morgan scurried off into the kitchen. Watching until she disappeared from view, Lucina turned, glancing back up the stairs to call out to her still absent husband. "Robin, are you ready to go?"

"Almost. One minute," Robin shouted back. Loud thumps and bangs accompanied his reply, increasing in alarming frequency with each passing second.

"Uhmm… is everything alright?" Lucina asked after a moment, almost afraid to ask just what in gods' names what her husband had gotten himself into.

"Nothing! It's fine, I'm just-"

Lucina winced as the the entire house shook with a deafening crash, Robin's voice lost in a roar of a large many things clattering against the floor.

"I'm alright, no need to panic!" A door slammed shut and hurried footsteps echoed out from down the hall moments before a very flustered looking Robin came into sight. Lucina caught a glimpse of some paper-wrapped object being stuffed into a bad as he scrambled down the stairs.

"Robin… what was that noise?" Lucina asked, staring flatly as her panting and winded husband.

"Oh, that. The book shelf fell over… I'll clean it up when we get back," Robin replied. He seeming to shrink in stature under her continued dumbfounded look.

Sighing, Lucina shook her head. They really didn't have time for this if they wanted to avoid being later than they already were. "Its alright. I take it you are ready to go?"

"Yeah, I have everything packed. I just need my coat… now where did that thing get off too…"

Lucina glanced around, scanning the room for her husband's plegian coat. Knowing him there was no way he'd agree to leave without it and-

"Look at me! I'm daddy! Do what I say!" Morgan shrieked with laughter as she ran out of the kitchen clad, her face completely covered by hood of the comically oversized tactician's coat. She managed to make it only halfway over to where they stood before her foot caught on the coattails dragging behind her, landing face first with a dull thump.

"I'm okay!" She exclaimed, scrambling her feet and… falling face first a second time after a single step. Marc giggled from where he stood at Lucina's side, seeming to take almost too much glee at seeing his sister trip.

"I think you need to leave the coat-wearing to daddy," Robin laughed, helping his daughter up. "Hold up your hands."

Morgan pouted at this request, but did as she was told, allowing her father to remove the too-large coat before slipping it on himself.

"Right then, let's go, shall we?" Robin said, digging a tome out of a coat pocket.

"How many tries will you need to teleport us to the right place this time? Lucina teased, a smirk curling at the edges of her lips.

"In my defense, that was a year ago and I _did_ get us there… eventually…" Robin replied. He shrugged, giving a nervous chuckle. "Besides, I have been practicing since then."

"That you have," Lucina conceded. The laughed. "I still do not understand how you have needed to practice as much as you have been. Morgan seemed to pick up the teleport spell easily enough."

"I can teleport?!" Morgan squealed, throwing her hands up into the air.

"The older Morgan," Lucina correctly, gently pushing Morgan's arms back down.

"Morgan has more motivation to get it right. I still don't see how she finds teleporting fun and-" Before Robin could finish the thought the four of them were interrupted by a crackling pop and a flash of azure light.

"Yoink!"

Lucina let out a startled yelp, catching a glimpse of a tactician's coat and blue hair before their home vanishing in another dazzling burst of brilliance. Her stomach lurched as for an instant she plummeted through empty void. Then as quickly as it had vanished reality snapped back into focus, Lucina staggering as her feet were suddenly on solid ground once more.

She blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift in lighting. Looking around she watched as Robin scrambled to keep his footing, nearly running headfirst into the trunk of a tree. It took Lucina but a moment to realize they were in the palace's main courtyard, , the light of the noonday done beating down from overhead. Morgan and Marc both were on the ground, giggling profusely and overall seemed unbothered with having fallen over. However, it was the laughter of the third voice that joined her youngests that had Lucina's attention at that moment.

"You could have given us some a warning, Morgan."

"I did warn you! I shouted 'yoink' loudly enough," Lucina's oldest daughter laughed. "You guys were taking too long, anyways, so you _needed_ my help!"

Before anything more could be said the younger Morgan and Marc scrambled to the feet, leaping into the older Morgan's arms. "Sissy!" both exclaimed, throwing their arms around their 'big sister'.

Laughing, Morgan scooped up the two little blue-haired devils, holding each of them in one arm as she stood. "Wow, you two have gotten so big. I bet you two tried to get Mommy and Daddy awake on time."

"We did! We jumped on their bed!" Marc insisted, bobbing his head up and down.

"Good job. Remind me to teach you my super ultra, top-secret, get Mother and Father out of bed strategy, the Morgan addition." Morgan laughed again, seeming completely at ease with the younger versions of herself and her brother. For not the first time Lucina marveled just how much Morgan had grown in the past few years. After her last growth spurt she now stood just as tall as Lucina was, and her features had matured from an excitable child to a those of a fine young woman. Well, grown in the physical sense at least, as adulthood had not seemed to lessen their daughter's bombastic exuberance.

"So says the one we had to drag out of bed every morning. Literally in fact, sometimes." Robin interrupted, crossing his arms in what would have been an adequate attempt at mock anger if not for the big stupid grin that perfectly matched the one worn by their daughter.

"Hey, I woke up early today and everything. You're the ones being fun suckers and keeping everyone waiting," Morgan countered.

"You arrived this morning with Inigo then?" Lucina asked.

"Yep. Though I'm having him unpack for us. We brought a lot with us, being here for the next month and all. Sure beats having to leave then come all the way back for my birthday."

"Hey!" the younger two shouted in unison.

"Sorry, _our_ birthday," Morgan corrected. Stepping forward toward Robin, she offered the two squirming little ones to him. "Here, take these two. Then we can go tell Grandpa you've arrived."

Robin excepted the two children, who groaned in disappointment as being relinquished by their sister. At once Morgan turned, her coat flapping as she spun around in a full cycle before setting off into the castle grounds, leading them through the winding hallways.

"So, has Marc arrived too?" Robin asked. Lucina glanced back to where he lagged at the rear of the procession, in no small part to Morgan and Marc's attempts to break free from his grasp.

"I'm right here, daddy," Marc interrupted, a positively perplexed look on his face.

"The older Marc," Robin correctly quickly, sighing.

"I think so. He and Nah didn't leave much behind us. They were almost ready when Inigo and I set out," Morgan answered, shrugging.

"I take it the two of you have been adjusting to leading the Shepherds well enough?" Lucina asked.

"Yep, its great to finally be in charge. I get to act all import and people actually listen to me. We even have an awesome system worked out, I handle the tactics while Marc gives the orders during fights. He's a bit better at the leadershipness thing. Like you and grandpa are," Morgan replied. She practically bounced with each step now, her grin so large it looked as though it might soon consume the rest of her expression.

"I'm happy things are working out." Lucina smiled, nodding her head. "And that the others are in good hands. I think some were worried ever since your father stepped down as royal tactician, you know. Him included."

"Hey, I'm standing right here," her husband cut in, pouting his face indignantly. "I had no doubt the grasshopper was ready for it: the others adjusting to the change was my only concern. I can't say I can complain though, retirement is great. Not having to fight for my life every other day is a plus."

"How's the book writing business going?" Morgan asked, glancing back over her shoulder. They had just passed into the throne room, which sat empty but for the ever present guards that stood besides each entrance.

_Perhaps father is in a meeting with his advisers_, Lucina thought to herself.

"Great, I'm just wrapping up the first volume. Its mostly detailing my own tactics and-"

"Father! Mother! There you are!"

Turning her head, Lucina smiles as she spied Marc running towards them.

These days he rarely wore his tactician's coat, instead favoring garments closer to those Lucina had once worn. The vest of padded leather he wore was a deep azure blue, with matching gloves, bracer, and shoulder guards on his arms and a shirt of a matching hue underneath. Over this he wore a midnight blue cloak, its clasp identical to the one that fastened her own. His Falchion jiggled at his side with each step, its bronze hilt glinting in the shifting light.

"Nah flew me here, she'll be catching up in a bit," Marc explained as he caught up with them, hunching over with hands braced against his knees while he caught his breath. If Marc had resembled his father and grandfather when he was younger, it was only more so true as an adult. If not for the color of his hair, one might have mistaken him for Robin at a distance, so similar their build and general features. However, close up one would find many similarities in his face to his grandfather, as well being a bit more muscular than his father as consequence of preference to swordsmanship over his magical capabilities. It looked like he'd grown a few inches since she'd last seen him too, standing as tall as his father now.

"Big brudder!" the twins' younger selves cried out, squirming in Robin's arms as they stretched their arms out to Marc.

Marc grinned at this, standing straight to retrieve the two from their father's arms.

"At last, freedom," Robin deadpanned, wincing as he rubbed his shoulders. "Either the devils have gotten heavier, or I'm really out of shape… maybe both."

"I can attest to the first one, gods you two _have_ gotten so big," said Mark. Laughing, he turned to Lucina, his smile still undiminished. "Happy birthday, Mother. I would give you a hug, but, well… you know," he hefted the two children in explanation.

"I understand. Things are going well for you?" Lucina asked. Not that she needed an answer: laughter and smiles seemed to come much more easily for Marc than in the past, even if he tended to be more withdrawn in comparison to his sister or even his younger self. Still, the past few years had done him well, her son appearing far happier and at ease than when they'd first met in his own timeline.

"Well enough, but I'm sure Morgan already covered most of it," Marc replied. "I've missed you both lately, oh, and these two as well," he added quickly at the younger children's indignant looks.

"No doubt. Its been too long since the whole family has been together," Robin agreed, taking Lucina's hand after stepped up next to her. "Yet now everyone is here and-"

"Ahem," coughed a voice somewhere behind them, interrupting her husband.

The momentary look of surprise on his Robin's face quickly turned to a mischievous smirk that Lucina knew all too well. "Now everyone _important_ is here," Robin corrected, keeping his gaze fixed on the same stop he had before.

"Ahem," the voice repeated louder.

"Everyone _important,_" Robin said again, matching the newcomer's volume

"Robin, you dastard, just turn around already!"

Through a hallway to their left had entered Lucina's father and mother, the Exalt approaching with arms spread wide in greeting.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there, '_Dad'_'," Robin teased his best-friend slash father-in-law.

Chrom faltered a step, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the tactician. Then he sighed, his expression relaxing. "I suppose it wouldn't be a reunion if I didn't want to smack you at least once."

"I know, right? Its part of my charm," Robin grinned, "Though its not like a old man like you could actually hurt me and-"

Lucina elbowed her husband hard, the rest of what he'd been going to say lost as he yelped in pain. "Honey, stop antagonizing my father. You are aware he _will_ hit you, right?"

"I'm just giving him a hard time. Don't take this away from me, he's the only one I can get away with doing this."

"Grandpa! Grandma!" Morgan and Marc screamed happily. Kneeling, the older Marc set them down, allowing them to run over to their grandparents.

"See, he's a grandfather. Totally an old man," Robin said.

"Robin," Lucina warned in unison with her father, eyes narrowing as they stared his way.

"I'll be good." Robin sighed.

"Now that's a lie if I've ever heard one," Chrom interjected, grinning as he crossed the distance between them. Behind him Sumia led Morgan and Marc by the hand, the twin chatting excitedly as they told their grandparents everything that had happened. Or at least, everything that involved the two of them, since _of course _that was the very most important things to have _ever _happened.

"Lucina," her father extended his arms, gripping her forearm as he pulled her into a hug which she gladly returns. "Happy birthday. I hope the idiot hasn't been causing too much trouble, has he?"

"Sometimes I wonder who's really the children of the house, him or the little ones, but no more than the normal 'Robin amount'." Lucina laughed, breaking away from her father. Turning to her mother she hugged her just as she had her father.

"I ask myself the same thing, only your father's kind of trouble involved breaking things… not that I'm much better," her mother interjected.

"She's got me there," Lucina's father admitted, a deep chuckle falling from his lips. He turns to Robin then. "Robin, its good to see you, brother." The exalt extended a hand to the tactician.

"Its good to see you too Chrom, its been far too long… wait, you're not going to hit me are you?" Robin asked, freezing with his hand half extended.

"Just shut up and get over here," her father sighed. Gripped Robin's forearm, her pulled the tactician into a back-slapping hug. Robin winced in surprise at first, clearly having still fearing retribution for his earlier remarks, before relaxing and returning the gesture.

"Also, what do you mean about it being "too long?" Lucina's father asked, stepping back to regard her husband at arm's length. "Weren't you here only-"

"Ahaha, yeah, um… I have no idea what youre…. Chrom, please, shush," Robin interrupted, his voice wavering as he spoke. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, beats of sweat glistening on his face.

Lucina frowned, eyes narrowing as she looked on her husband. She'd known him long enough to tell when he was hiding something, or rather when he'd been found out. Among many things, a terrible liar was one of the many things she could use to describe him. "Robin… is there something you should be telling me?" Lucina crossed her arms, tapping a foot expectantly.

"Ah...see… well... " Robin gulped audibly, his mouth working without forming words. "I was hoping you wouldn't find out until later today, so please, wait until then? I need you to trust me on this… I don't want this ruined…"

Her expression softened at this, nodding her head. "I trust you, Robin. You could do with acting less suspicious, though. It mayhaps give the wrong impression and-"

"Mommy, I'm bored," Marc whined, tugging at her pants legs.

"Me too! But I'm more bored!" Morgan added, latching onto the opposite leg.

"Why don't you two go play Justice Cabal with Cynthia, Owain, and Gerome," Lucina told the twins, smiling down at time.

"And later I can get future, time traveling Justice Cabal together. We can totes have a team up adventure!" the older Morgan interjected, grinning widely at her own idea. "Ooooh, or maybe a fight between the two. Every team crossover needs a big fight between the two."

"Awesome!" the two shouted in unison, bouncing up and down with what Lucina could only guess was barely contained excitement at this suggestion. Without another word they sprinted off down the hall in search for their cousin and aunt… the later of which was the same age as them… gods, their family was confusing.

"Older Gerome might need some convincing to join us," her twin added. The elder of the two Marcs frowned, watching as his younger self and his sister's scurried out of sight before elaborating."Its still hard to see him as an 'cabaler', and I still remember when we were kids. The one from my timeline, that is. Its really with him clinging to the whole 'darkness' and 'no parents', angsty loner that is really cool and…. I'm not jealous… okay a little, but Owain is too!"

"Not everyone can pull off the masked vigilante look, little brother," Morgan replied. She smirked, adding, "well, I mean, I totally could pull it off if I wanted to. Behind this cheerful and airheaded exterior is a brooding loner hell bend on bringing justice to a dark and grim world." As she spoke Morgan pulled the collar of her coat up over her face dramatically.

"But we have a family, a big one!" Marc countered. "Doesn't that disqualify you?"

"Morgan froze, her eyes widening as if hit by an earth shattering revelation. "You're right. There is only one way." Her hand shot to the hilt of her sword as she slowly turned her head to regard the rest of her extended family.

Before this could go any further, however, Lucinna reached out, smacking her daughter on the back of the head. "No. Bad Morgan, no murdering your family to justify becoming an character out of Owain's inane stories."

"Ow! Fine, fine, I'm be good. Totally could have killed you all too," Morgan muttered, rubbing the back of her head,

"So, before Morgan decides that , lets go find little Lucina, and then we can catch up," Lucina's father offered, motioning for them to follow.

"Sounds good to me," Robin shrugged. He took a single step before freezing suddenly, his eyes falling onto Lucina. "However… Lucina… you aren't going to spent the day glaring at other you, are you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Only if she doesn't try to steal you from me," Lucina replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "She may be me, but you're mine. She can get her own."

"So no promises?" Robin arched an eyebrow.

"No promises," Lucina affirmed.

Robin leaned down, kissing her. "Works for me." He laughed.

**. . . . .**

"... by the time I'd flown the two of them from the tree you would have thought they were going to die of embarrassment. Robin's face was so red that we could have left him up there and you would have thought it was an apple tree." The table erupted into laughter as Lucina's mother finished her story.

Lucina lowered herself back into her chair. Next to her Robin was likewise doing his best to appear unassuming.

The past few hours had been of activity, filled with lots of reunions and catching up as more members of the royal family had arrived. The dinner that had followed turned into a time to recount stories of their past adventures, as well as for the second generation of Shepherds to regale them with tales of their more recent adventures, which in the case of her cousin were likely of dubious factuality.

Lucina took another bite of birthday cake, glanced between those around the table. Her parents were seated directly across from her and Robin, and to her father's right were her aunt and uncle. To the left of her parents was seated Morgan and her now fiance Inigo, who had proposed to her only a month before. Across from them sat Marc and Nah. Both Cynthia and Owain had likewise come as well, bringing their respective partners of Gerome and Severa with them to the party. The others members of the future Shepherds were not able to make it, in no small part to their own obligations.

"In their defense, by that point half of the Shepherds had gathered around the base of the tree," Chrom interjected, talking through a mouthful of cake. "After being called up into a search party once we realised you two were missing, having a laugh of your expense was the the least they could get."

"You know, we can play this game too," Robin countered, pointing his fork across the table at Lucina's parents "We're not the only ones with embarrassing stories.

"It may not be as bad, but I know your pain," Marc interjected. "I got thrown into a lake in front of everyone. Well, I fell off of Nah's back. It was the first time she left me ride on her back and-"

"-I thought it would be funny to do a loop without tell him," Nah finished for him, an evil grin spreading across her face. "I'd expected him to hold on, but made sure we were over the lake the others had camped by first, just in case."

"Oooh, I remember hearing about this. I was on a scouting mission at the time, wasn't there to see it in person," Morgan cut in, her words nearly incomprehensible though the cake stuffed into her mouth. "How was it?"

"Besides the embarrassment, it was awesome!" Marc answered, grinning. "Nah even left me jump off her back into the take a couple times afterwards. It was like she was my private, flying, diving board."

"Gods, now I want to do that. That sounds so much fun!" In a sudden flurry of motion, Morgan spun around to face Inigo, knocking over her cup as she went."Why can't you turn into a dragon?"

For his part, Inigo stared blankly at her for a long moment, his expression one of comical bewilderment. "Because I'm not an Manakete?" Inigo replied hesitantly, as if unsure that he'd given the right answer.

"That's no excuse. I want to ride a dragon!" Morgan slammed a fist against the table.

Inigo sat silently for another moment, then his expression changed. He raised a finger up before him, his lips curled into a mischievous smirk. From her own interaction with him over the years, it was an expression that Lucina was all too familiar with.

_Oh gods, this won't end well."_

"Well, Morgan, if you want to start calling it that I'd be happy to oblige and-"

A bolt of lightning struck the wall behind Inigo with a fizzling pop, missing his head by a hair's breath.

"Morgan…" Robin said, sparks dancing from the tip of his still outstretched finger. "Well your fiance to shut up, or there isn't going to be a wedding this year. Or any at all." Without lowering his arms, Robin calmly resumed eating his slice of cake as if nothing was amiss.

"See, honey, I told you I wasn't going to be the first one to thread a son in law with brutal death," Lucina's father noted, turning to his wife with a wry smile. "I can have self control when I want to."

"I never doubted you would, I only wanted to make sure to avoid causing another scene," Sumia smiled knowingly.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to open presents," Lucina offered, pushing her husband's arm back down to his side. "Honestly Robin, could you try to act your age for once?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Lucina's mother exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "Why don't your father and I go first, does that sound fine?" She asked.

Nodding, Lucina waited as her father reached under the table, retrieving two wrapped gifts, handing one to each of Lucina and her younger self. Opening the present, Lucina found a silver necklace, a pendant of lapis lazuli. Glancing over the younger her, she saw that she too had been given an identical gift.

Thanking her parents, Lucina next moved onto the gift she and Robin had brought with them, offering it to the seven year version of herself. She watched as the blue haired girl excitedly tore into the package, gasping in shock as she found an exact replica of cloak and mask Lucina had worn in her Marth disguise.

"We picked it out when we visited for Cynthia's birthday. Gerome knows a good mask maker in the city, who we commissioned it from," Lucina explained, smiling to her younger her.

"I love it, thank you so much," the younger Lucina exclaimed. Hopping out of her chair, she threw her arms around her 'big sister', squeezing her in thanks.

"Oooh, ooooh, us next, open our present next," Morgan waved her arms over her head, desperate to get everyone's attention. Reaching under her chair, she pulled out a soft, roughly square shaped parcel wrapped in green paper and tied with a blue bow. Reaching across the table, Lucina accepted the gift, returning to her seat.

Spying a hard dangling from the bow, Lucina turned her head to better look at it. The small sheet of paper had been signed by many names, including all of her friends that had traveled from her own timeline.

"It was my and Marc's idea mostly, but we got all of the others to pitch in for it," Morgan explained

Nodding, Lucina untied the ribbon, the paper falling away to reveal a large, dark gray coat a size too big to fit her snuggly. Even before unfolding it, she recognised the gold and purple patterning: it was an exact replica of the coat worn by Robin and her two oldests, down to the every detail. Only this one was brand new, showing no sign of the wear and tear that adorned those worn by the other three.

"Morgan and I were discussing gift ideas when we realised that you were the only one who didn't have a coat like us," Marc explained, smiling as Lucina looked between the two.

"Now we all match!" Morgan agreed.

"Thank you both. And all you too," Lucina added, smiling to Cynthia, Gerome, Owain, Severa, Inigo, and Nah each in turn. "It means a lot to-"

"When do I get a coat like daddy?" the younger Morgan interrupted. She'd bolted upright, standing up on her chair, the indignant expression she wore screaming the girl's thoughts at that moment must be: 'how dare they forget about her. She was her after all, forgetting her was unthinkable'.

"When you're older," Robin replied firmly, leaning out of her chair to sit his daughter down in his chair. "Your older brother and sister didn't get theirs until they were bigger."

This answer did not seem to accept the pouting Morgan, who merely crossed her arms and continued to glare at everyone around the table.

Standing, Lucina slipped on the coat, twirling halfway in place to let it billow around her before returning to her seat. It was almost the exact same weight as Robin's coat too, the only changes made to it being to better fit her size.

"Is it my turn? Did you get a present for your best aunt in whole world?" the younger Lucina asked, looking between the two who in reality would be as much her children as they were the older Lucina herself.

"Yep, Morgan came up with the idea for it," Marc replied, searching around his chair. "I think its somewhere around here…"

**. . . . .**

It was late by the time Lucina and her younger counterpart had finished unwrapping their presents, with everyone soon retiring to their rooms for the night. For herself and Robin the next half hour was spent getting their youngests ready for bed, only once the twins had fallen asleep did they return to their room for the night.

Stepping into the darkened room, Lucina blinked, squinting to make out the dark silhouettes of furniture that adorned the room. Behind her Robin murmured something she couldn't make out, fire bursting to life in the fireplace as he finished his spell.

"Brings, make memories, huh?" her husband asked, gazing out onto their old bedroom. Her father and mother had kept the room maintained over the past several years, so that the two of them could have a place to themselves during their visits.

"Do you ever regret moving away?" Lucina asked, taking a seat on the bed.

"A little bit, sometimes," Robin replied. He shrugged his shoulders, sitting down next to her. "These visits do remind me out much I miss everyone, but I think the past few years have proven we enjoy the peace of quiet away from the capita. Not to mention it has solved issue regarding the potential complications fall out of there being two of you living in the same place."

"I suppose you're right," Lucina murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Shall we retire to bed then?"

"Actually…" Robin replied, shifting in his seat. Lucina sat up straight as Robin bent down, fishing through his bag. After several moments he withdrew a square shaped object wrapped in brown paper, the same one she'd glimpsed him pack earlier that day. "...I have one more present to give you. Its not much, and… well… I wanted this to be a complete surprise, as this was what I was referring to when I asked for you to wait until this evening."

Lucina smiled, taking the offered present. "Its okay, I don't mind it not being wholly unexpected. Its not like I know what it is you are giving me, after all."

Undoing the knot, Lucina unwrapped the brown paper covering the present. She gasped, beholding the preset her husband had gotten her. Inside was perhaps the most beautiful times she had ever seen, with a dark sapphire blue cover inlaid with hand carved silver engravings that formed a flowing border around the edge. At its center was set the book's title, its script matching her husband's handwriting so perfectly that there was no mistaking that he had decorated the book by hand. Her vision blurring with tears, it took a moment for her to piece out the ruby-red lettering. It read _Shadow Dragon and the Blade of Light_.

"What is this?" Lucina asked, carefully flipping through the pages. The script was in Robin's hand as well. He must have penned the whole book himself.

"Its a full account of the Hero-King Marth's adventures and deeds. I know how much you of an inspiration his story was for you, so I thought you'd like it. " Robin answered. Looking up, Lucina saw that Robin was smiling too, no double pleased that she liked his gift. "I've been working on it for the past two years. I hunted down every reliable source I could get my hands on and even collaborated with Tiki to make sure all the details were are accurate as possible. As far as I know, this is the most accurate version, as includes all the things to historians left out."

"Lady Tiki helped with this? How? When did you…" Lucina trailed off, the pieces falling into place. "That's why you keep vanishing for hours on end, 'practicing'!" She exclaimed.

Robin nodded. "I wanted it to be a surprise, so you'll have to forgive my lying to you," he confirmed, then with a smirk added. "Your father almost ruined it too, as whenever I wasn't working with Tiki I was in the palace's library. You have no idea how close I was to smacking him when he let it slip I'd been here recently. I really wanted it to be a surprise, to make the gift special."

Closing the book, Lucina ran her hand over the cover, her vision blurring with gathering moistness. He'd put so much work into this, all to make this day perfect for her. "Robin… you didn't need to go through all that just to give me something special. No matter what, it would have already been special to me, when it comes from you."

Robin shook his head, smiling gently. "No, I did need to do this. You deserve no less. Considering it thanks for being there for me every day for the past five years, and for all the days to come. Because you are the one who will always be at my side… and me by yours…"

Blinking back tears. Lucina wrapped her arms around him, their lips meeting in a long passionate kiss. For how long they remained locked in each other's embrace, she could not tell, only resurfacing when she was forced to heed her burning lungs' call for air.

Gasping for air, the two of them began to laugh. So sudden had been the sudden makeout session.

"So, I guess reading the book will have to wait till tomorrow th-"

Before Robin could finish Lucina grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down onto the bed next to her. Oh yes, it would definitely have to wait until tomorrow.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And so ends my little Lucina's Birthday/Fire Emblem 25th Anniversary celebration piece. I apologies if it is a bit on the rough side, I only just finished it this morning and wanted to make sure I got it out today. I do plan on going back over the next few days and cleaning it up a bit.

I have to say, I enjoyed getting a chance to write about how everyone is doing years later, even if I needed way more time than I had to cover every single little change that has happened. I do plan to eventually explore some of the elements I introduced in this chapter, as many of them have the potential for their own stories.

Those wondering about the gift Robin gave Lucina, yes he did basically just write a novelization of the first Fire Emblem game. I felt it was the most fitting way for me to also nod to it being the 25th anniversary of the series, which also played into the decision to make it Lucina's 25th birthday.

Since its also coming up, I predict my next story will be about Morgan/Marc's birthday, though I intend for that one to be much shorter than the 7+k words oneshot this one is.


	5. A Time Traveler's Birthday

**Title:** A Time Traveler's Birthday

**Description: **Following the conclusion of the war with Valm and the sea journey back to Ylisse, a certain family celebrates their paradoxical time traveling daughter's birthday at the Shepherd Camp

**Notes: **Takes following the end of the Valm arc, but prior to Validar stealing the Fire Emblem. Morgan has been with the Shepherds for several months now, having been recruited during a period of preparation for the war with Valm in which all of the other future characters on that continent were recruited.

* * *

"Happy birthday, Morgan!" Robin and Lucina cheered. Between them they held out a plate, a single cupcake balanced at its center.

"Thanks, Father, Mother!" Their daughter practically bounced up and down where she sat opposite of them in the middle of his and Lucina's shared tent. She smiled as she looked between them, her expression turning to a full blown grin as she eyed the pastry held out before her. "Now... gimme, gimme, gimme!" Morgan cried out, lunging for the dessert.

"Woah, woah, woah there, grasshopper. You need to blow out the candle and make a wish first," Robin cut in quickly, snatching the plate out of reach. Not a second too soon, either, Morgan's hands passing through the space it had occupied an instant before as she dove for it, landing on the floor of the tent with an audible oomph.

"Fine, I'll make the stupid wish." Morgan puffed out her breath in an annoyed sigh. Taking no heed of the dirt covering her coat, she picked herself up from the ground. "I wish… I-could-eat-the-cake-right-now!" She exclaimed rapidly, blowing out the candle and snatching the pastry up in a single fell swoop.

"And so a perfectly good birthday wish is wasted," Robin muttered, unable to muster more than a flat stare as his daughter began stuffing the whole damn cupcake into her mouth as fast as she was able.

"Are you really surprised? Our Morgan does has a bit of a one track mind." Lucina put a hand on his arm, her bright laughter filling the tent.

"I suppose so. Still a waste of a birthday wish, though," Robin agreed. Shrugging, he looked back to Morgan. "So, how's the cake, squirt?"

"Itpth reephry gumph" Morgan answered through her stuffed cheeks, crumbs flying from her mouth.

"Swallow first, dear," Lucina instructed, sighing.

Nodding, Morgan held up her index finger to tell them to wait. Chewing for a another moment, she choked down the rest of the vanquished dessert, gasping for breath as she finished. "It's really good. Was. I ate it now," Morgan repeated. "Did you bake it yourselves?"

"Yes, we-" Robin started so answer.

"We attempted to, with… undesirable results," Lucina interjected quickly. "In the end Noire aided us a considerable amount."

"In our defense, we did try really hard," Robin added, hastily. "But, well… three burned… then the fire happened… so…"

"Its okay, it was still really good." Morgan giggled, licking her fingers clean to make her point clear. "So is it present time? Please tell me you got something good? Did ya? Did ya? Did ya?" Morgan bounced up and down, her voice becoming louder and high pitched with each repetition.

"Hold your horses, kiddo," Robin said, stopping her with a hand. Reaching behind him, he flailed under his desk, searching for the present he'd stowed there. _Now where is… ah, there! _Seizing hold of the box, he handed it to Morgan, who wasted not even an instant to breathe before ripping it open and yanking out the two heavy tomes inside.

"Both are those are manuals on advanced tactics. The first one I bought for myself a couple years back, but have learned everything I could from it so I figured it would do more good with you. The other I picked up back in Valm, which even I haven't read yet." Robin explained, grinning at the look of surprise mixed with joy on his daughter's face. "Maybe you can learn something from it to help beat me in our next practice session."

"Thanks, Father. I just know these will come in handy!" Morgan beamed, throwing her arms around him in a squeezing hug.

"Morgan... please… need to… breathe." Robin gasped, his daughter finally releasing him. "Woah, what are you Morgan, half python?

"Darn, you figured me out. Hisss, hisss." Morgan laughed, sticking out her tongue to punctuate her teasing reply. She spun around fully once, stopping once she faced Lucina. "What about you Mother? Did you get me something too?"

"Of course. What kind of mother would I be otherwise?" Lucina replied, revealing a box wrapped in plain brown paper.

Morgan practically squealed in joy as she snatched the present from her mother's outstretched hands. Paper flew as she tore into the wrapping with such gusto that Robin instinctively took a step back in fear of getting hurt.

Once far enough way to avoid being caught between his daughter and free stuff, Robin watched on curiously for a glimpse of what Lucina had picked out for her. _Come to think of it, when did Lucina get her a gift? Last time we were in town was…_

Robin froze, gulping. Before they left Valm, Lucina had gone shopping on several occasions, each time bringing back one horrendously clashing outfit after the next. Then last week, she'd been gone most of a day: the Shepherds had been camped only an hour's walk from a large town.

N_o, calm down, Robin, don't panic. Maybe Sumia went shopping with her, and kept her from getting something too bad,_ he told himself, fighting to urge to cover his eyes. _Oh who am I kidding, that didn't stop her last time._

The last of the paper fell away, Morgan throwing open the box. Robin squeezed his eyes shut, too afraid to look at the color clashing monstrosity his wife undoubtedly purchased. Taking a deep breath, he mustered all of his courage and peaked his eyes open.

Well to be fair… alright, it was just as bad as he thought it was. The dress held aloft in Morgan's hands could only be described as painfully eye catching, sunflower yellow in color with blue and purple polka dots. And were those pink frills around the hem!?

_Gods, gods, gods, gods. I should have made sure to go with her. Lucina is going to be heartbroken, there's not way that Morgan could-"_

"Ohmygods, I love it!" Morgan exclaimed, giving the most genuine squee Robin had ever heard. "It looks so pretty. I'm going to put it on right now!"

Robin's jaw fell open, watching dumbfoundedly as Morgan yanked off her tactician's coat, pulling the dress down over her tunic. _Well then… I guess we know which of us Morgan inherited her fashion sense from,_ he stifled a nervous laugh.

"How do I look, Mother? Morgan exclaimed, twirling around to show off the dress to her parents.

"Its looks beautiful on you," Lucina answered. "I must admit, I was concerned your tastes would be far less understated than my own, given your more excitable outlook when compared to myself."

"Its perfect, Mother, thank you," Morgan said, hugging her mother just as she had Robin. "What do you think, Father? Do you like it too?"

"It… I think it looks great," Robin managed at last, trying his best to sound somewhat convincing. An horrible idea occurred to him them, one that took every ounce of willpower not to bring a look of abject horror to his face. _Oh gods, what's going to happen if the two of them go shopping together? _

* * *

**Author's Note:** And so we discover Morgan inherited Lucina's fashion sense… or lack thereof as the case may be, lol.

So, I kinda forgot Morgan's birthday was today. Well, I knew it was coming up, I just somehow got it in my head it was May 10th instead of the 5th. Luckily this short little oneshot was already mostly done, I just had to quickly finish it up.

Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this one, two birthday fics in a row. Next one will be something more serious. Also, if you guys have suggestions for future one shots, I would love to hear them. I make no promises, but I will do my best to see I can do something with them!


	6. Monster

**Title:** Monster

**Description: **Following the confrontation with Validar at the Dragon Table, Robin is shaken by the revelations regarding his identity and his role in the destruction of Lucina's future.

**Notes: **Spoilers for Chapter 23 and assorted events prior to it.

* * *

Robin slammed his fist into his desk, pain lancing up his arm. Papers flew from his desk, swept aside as a groan of frustration-mixed-hopeless fell free from his throat. How was he supposed to do this? How could he do this? There was nothing, no strategy, no tactic that could work. Grima… Grima would anticipate everything, every strategy, every tactic, every plan! He would because he thought just like him… because Grima _was_ him.

_Grima was him_.

That single thought reverberated through his consciousness like the pealing of a great gong, its vibrations shaking him to the very core of his being.

_Oh gods, I'm Grima. _He slumped down into his chair, cradling his head in his hands. The revelation had shaken him before, but… until now he hadn't had the chance to think about it. Keeping Chrom alive, the final fight with his father, he just hadn't had the chance. "Gods, no. Why? Why me?"

It was his fault, it was all his fault. Everything from the beginning, it was all his fault. All the war, the bloodshed, all of it because of him. All because he existed, because as long as he was around Grima could return. He'd been the cause of all of it, so many dead and in the future he-

He'd killed them all. Oh Gods, he'd killed them all. Not just Chrom, but everyone. Lissa, Frederick, Sumia, and every other member of the Shepherds, the men and women he'd grown to love and respect, all of them dead!

Knocking over his chair as he leapt to his feet, Robin howled in despair. With a sweep of his arm he knocked the remaining books and papers from his desk, spilling them onto the floor of his tent. He clenched his fists shut, so tightly his palm began to bleed. He was a monster! A monster who killed his friends. His comrades. The people who'd become the only family he had ever known. And Lucina…

_Lucina._

His heart shattered in his chest at the mere thought of her name. _He _was Grima. The monster who'd taken everything from her, the being she hated above all else. He was the reason she couldn't have lived a happy life, why she'd been forced to fight for her life every single day. He was the reason she woke up at night screaming from nightmares so horrible he couldn't begin to imagine them. She'd given him nothing but her love, but in the future he'd done nothing but make her suffer.

_Does she hate me? And… and why wouldn't she? She had every reason to, after everything Grima… I… did to her. She didn't know what I was when she agreed to marry me, didn't know I was a monster… _An insane, hopeless laugh fell from his through. _What a cruel joke for the world to play, letting her fall in love with the very monster she came back through time to kill. _

Tears stinging his eyes, Robin staggered away from his desk, swaying on unsteady feet. He couldn't stay here, he needed to get away, to be alone. He reached for his coat, only to recoil away from it. Grima had worn the same coat. How could he ever wear it again, when it was tied with the monster he was destined to become?

Without a look back he ran. Ran until he was alone, collapsing on his hands and knees in the middle of a field far from camp. Tears in streams down his face, wetting the parched earth. He began to sob, opening and freely. Gods, why him? What was this his fate. He hadn't wanted this. Gods, he hadn't wanted any of this!

For how long he cried, Robin couldn't say. Behind him the sun sank deeper into the horizon, the air growing chill with every passing moment. It didn't matter. None of it mattered then as he cried again and again, pained and more hopeless than he'd ever felt in his life.

"Robin?"

Lifting his head, Robin turned in the direction of the voice. Standing a few feet away was Lucina, his face full of concern. "Is something the matter? I was worried, I was told you ran out of camp…" She let the question hang in the air, slowly approaching him.

"Lucina... d-do you hate me?" he asked, the question stopping Lucina in her tracks.

"Hate you?" Lucina asked. See took another step towards him, putting a hand on his. "I don't understand, why would I hate you?

"B-but, you were there today. I'm one who destroyed your future, it was me." Robin said, choking back another sob. "You should loath me now. I took everything from you, made you suffer. You have every reason too, and I deserve your hate. I'm a monster, nothing but a-"

Before he could finish, Lucina stopped him, place her hands on either side of his head. Gently she lifted his head up, stopping once their eyes met. Instead of the disgust and loathing he'd expected to find, the blue orbs stared at him carried nothing but compassion. "Robin, whatever you were in my timeline, that's not who you are. I know you, and you would never do those things. You proved that today: my father survived and you refused to allow yourself to become Grima's vessel."

Robin reached up, squeezing his hand around Lucina's forearm as tightly as he could. He wanted her to still love him, wanted it with every fiber of his being. He wanted her to never let go, he couldn't bear the thought of her slipping away. "Lucina, I don't understand… after everything I… the other me did to you… just how…"

"What is there to understand?" She leaned in, kissing him upon the forehead. "I love you, Robin, so much that it hurts. And I can't stand to see you blame yourself like this! You aren't Grima. The Robin from my future, he… no matter what he's done, you aren't him. You never made me suffer…" Trailing off, Lucina removed a hand from his face, wiping away his tears streaming down his face on the sleeve of her shirt. "...You aren't a monster."

"If I'm not Grima, then who am I?" Robin pleaded, his eyes glistening with tears. "Please, If you know who I am, please tell me... Am I fit to stand with Chrom and the others? … am I fit be with you? I-" The words died in his throat with another sob. "I don't know who I am… what sort of person was I before… before Chrom found me? And… I was born to be nothing more than Grima's vessel. I only exist to be his slave. Is that who I am meant to be? Is it-"

"Hush now, dear, it's going to be alright." Lucina wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close against him. "I know who you are, who you truly are. You are Robin, the tactician of the Shepherds. You are smart, brave, kind and most selfless person I have ever know… ." She ran a hand through his hair, brushing the tangled mess of strands from his forehead. "...But more than that, you are the man I love. No matter what happens, there is nothing that can change that."

"I… If you believe so, than I can… I can believe it too." He clung to her tighter. He would not let her go, not even for an instant. "If being the man you love was my only purpose, that alone would be enough. As long as I can give you a happier life, then my life would mean something."

"And you always will. You promised to be at my side for the rest of our lives, and I intend to hold you to that," Lucina assured him. A smile crossed her lips as their eyes met again. "And I will always be at yours. We _will_ find a way to stop Grima, we _will_ save this world, and we'll do it together. You don't have to do this alone."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Robin said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Lucina brought her hands up to his face, brushing away the remaining moistness he had missed. Leaning in close, their lips met, washing away his worry in a tide of love.

He felt like a fool, thinking that what they'd learned had changed what was between them. Lucina still loved him, and for that he would be eternally thankful. When he was with her, he never felt alone, scared, or weak. Perhaps that was what set him apart from his future self. That Robin hadn't had Lucina to give his life purpose.

* * *

**Author's Note: **What's this, two chapters in one week? Madness, I say, madness!

This was a scene I had imagined for a long time, with one of the biggest missed opportunities of the game was the fact that it never really addressed the fallout of Robin discovering he became Grima in the future. More so if he married Lucina, where that would make his future self responsible for everything bad that happened to her. And would make his future the thing she hates above all else.. ouch. Couple this with Robin's immense lack of self-esteem, an often overlooked but incredibly vital aspect of Robin's canonical portrayal in the game, it's not hard to imagine just how hard he'd take this.

You may have also picked up the parallels to a certain other character's reaction to a similar revelation during A Future Disowned, which was 100% intentional on my part. Felt right to be some direct similarities there.

The next couple of one-shots will be based on the suggestions people left me in reviews for chapter 5, so look out for that.


	7. Overworked

**Title:** Overworked

**Description: **Robin spends nearly every waking hour working, whether it be preparing tactics or simply helping the other Shepherds with their problems. But what happens when he is overworked and needs someone else to look after him for once?

**Notes: **Takes place during the middle of the Valm arc, with Robin and Lucina having been a couple for a little over a week at this point.

* * *

"Robin, you need to rest."

A hand lightly shook his shoulder, snapping him from the indistinct haze that had fallen over his mind. In an instant annoyance rushed through him, both mind and body rebelling against the violent jolt back to awareness.

"Mhmmm can't... need too mhmmm… working...," Robin slurred, the words coming out at an near unintelligible mumble even to his own ears. He groaned again, he burying his face back in the arms crossed over his desk.

"No you don't, you're falling asleep at your desk as it is," the same person as before urged him. It took a moment before he released that the voice belonged to Lucina.

He blinked. As_leep at his… no, he couldn't rest now, needed to_… Pieces of parchment clung to his face as he lifted his head. The too-bright light of candles stung at his eyes, his vision blurring as he clumsily groped for the quill that lay just out of reach. He must of misjudged the distance, instead of landing on top of his hand fell down just short of it, nudging it with the tips of his fingers. It rolled over the lip of his desk, landing somewhere out of reach.

"Robin," Lucina urged, more urgently this time. She grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could reach for another quill. "Look at yourself, you can barely move. You need to get some sleep, please."

"Can't… counting on me…" Robin mumbled, managing to half raise himself up from the desk."This work is too important. I need… need to keep going. If I don't finish this strategy for the next battle I… I can't let anyone die because… because..." he trailed off, finding it increasingly difficult to form words. His head throbbed with a dull, aching pain: the only real sensation amongst the fuzzy fog that clung to the world around him, making it impossible to focus.

"...Because I haven't done all I could…" he managed at last, speaking in no more than a whisper.

For a moment no reply, the world falling still. Then a vail of blue hair filled his vision as Lucina knelt down in front of him. Their eyes met, concern pooling from the princess' gaze. "Robin, you _are_ doing everything you can. No one is going to die because of you."

"But…" he started to argue.

"Working yourself to death won't help any of us, Robin. Please," she urged, shaking her head. "You've always told me I should be taking better care of myself, and the same goes for you. What would happen if you, our tactician, collapsed under the strain?"

He said nothing, his argument stopped dead in its tracked by the simple, undeniable logic she presented.

Lucina lifted her free hand up to his face, stopping dead in her tracked when she was no more than an inch away. She hesitated, for a just moment uncertainty filling her , wish the sharp intake of breath she went in, cupping the side of his face. "Please, get some sleep for me." She ran her fingers through his hair absently, brushing aside the mess of loose strands from his forehead. Then, as if suddenly taking notice of her action, pulled her hand away in a sudden jolt. She averted her gaze, cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment.

Robin too felt his cheeks burn, his skin tingling where Lucina's hand had been but moments before.. In the short time they'd been together… displaying affection was not his strong suit. Nor was it her's...

"Alright… you win..." Robin relented, slumping down onto his desk once more. Through a half aware daze he felt arms wrap around his shoulders, guiding him from his desk. Gentle hands helped him out of his coat and boots as he lay down, pulling covered up around him as sleep to slip over him.

The last thing he remembered was the scent of Lucina's hair as she leaned over him, whispering gently in his ear.

"Goodnight, Robin."

Then he recalled no more, falling into a sleep slumber. A smile on his face.

**. . . . .**

For several moments Lucina stood watch over Robin, transfixed by the look of serenity that had fallen over his features. It was easy to forget sometimes, for all that he does to look after herself and everyone else, that he often did so at the cost of himself.

_You worry so much about everyone else, have given so much for all of us, _she thought. Perhaps that is why she had fallen for him: never before had she met someone as selfless and willing to do whatever he could for the people he cared for. _Rest well, Robin. I owe it to you to do whatever I can to look after your well being. You are so focused on taking care of everyone… perhaps it's time someone look after you._

Leaning down, Lucina kissed him on his forehead, her lips lingering for several long moments. Then, blushing even more than before, she turned away and hurried from the tent.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this little fluff piece I threw together for you here. I had originally intended for the next oneshot to be a retelling of Robin and Lucina first meeting Morgan, and their reactions to discovering they are parents, but got buried under a sea of work and didn't want to leave you with nothing until I finish that.

It was actually that sea of work that inspired this particular one-shot. I've probably spent around thirty hours over the past two days alone on a group project for the night class I was stupid enough to take while on an internship. So as I lay half asleep at my own desk, struggling to stay awake to keep working, this idea popped into my head, as it seemed like a it would be a very "Robin thing" for him to do, and one I could definitely related to right now (perhaps not the whole, "people will die" thing, that thankfully is not something I need to worry about). Now if only I had someone to look after me like Lucina does for Robin. I guess writing this will have to suffice for now.

Anyways, take are for now everyone. And please, if you have time to, leave a review. I love hearing your guys feedback, not to mention constructive criticism to help me improve as a writer and do even better in the future.


	8. Touch of Another's Hand

**Title:** Touch of Another's Hand

**Description: **Late one evening Robin and Lucina find themselves talking after the other Shepherds have gone to bed. When the topic turns to Lucina's duty to save the world, will Robin let his feelings for her be known?

**Notes: **Takes place immediately following Robin and Lucina's A-support conversation

* * *

"I...can handle it." Lucina said at last, breaking the silence between them since Robin had posed his question. The hesitance at which she spoke was unmistakeable, as if struck by sudden doubt her ability to shoulder her self-imposed duty.

Robin sat motionless, gazing on the dwindling campfire that had been the focal point for the evening's meal. The other Shepherds had long since retired to their tents or taken up first first watch around the camp's perimeter. Only he and Lucina had lingered, passing the waning hours with talk. It was then that the conversation had turned to Lucina's future, and the nature of her mission in the past.

At last he moved, nodded slowly. Calling her out on it wasn't the wisest choice now: it would be more likely to upset her than do any real good. Gods, something about even the thought of Lucina being upset with him was unbearable. "Perhaps," he managed, doing his best to hide his frown.

Picking up a discarded stick, he poked the at the fire absently, working out what he should say. _Why not just tell her what you think? Or are you unable to do even that,_ the cold, self loathing voice that had become all-too familiar as of late chinded. He realised then that he was holding his breath, releasing it with a pent of sigh. Being passive wouldn't help any. "Just…" He paused again, frowning. "...Will you promise me to take better care of yourself?"

At this question Lucina turned to look directly at him, her expression hard as if searching for some ulterior motive behind his words. For an instant her eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare, then she relaxed, her expression softening. "For you...yes," she said softly, scratching at her seat absently.

"Ah...a relief to hear," Robin replied, exhaling with a pleased _ah-ha_.

"And a relief for me that you care, Robin. Thank you." Lucina smiled slightly, looking away as she finished. It might have been nothing more than a trick of the flickering firelight, but Robin thought he saw Lucina's flush pink, if only for a moment.

Smiling too, Robin returned his gaze back to the campfire. _She was happy that he cared. _Something about those simple words inspired a sudden, giddy joy, a tingle running up his spine as he repeated them in his head. Knowing someone he cared about approved of him too… that was something special.

It was so that he didn't notice his own hand inching slowly to his right, acting on some unconscious desire, towards where Lucina's hand rested against the log. His hand covered her's, a tingle of warmth shooting up his arm as their skin met. For a moment his only thought was as its texture, soft and delicate despite the swordsman's calluses covering her palm.

Then, with a jolt, he yanked his hand away, Lucina's reaction mirroring his own in perfect unison.

"I-I… I should really be going. It must be almost time for me to take over watch duty from Sir Frederick," Lucina stammered, her eyes meeting his. This time there was no mistaking the fact that she was blushing, her cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment.

Robin's own face burned, mortified by his forwardness. "Lucina, I…"

And then she was gone, hurrying out of sight before he could even finish his apology.

"Gods, I'm so stupid," Robin groaned, cradling his head in his hands as slumped in his seat.

He'd acted without thinking: accomplishing nothing other than driving her away. Of course she'd be embarrassed, a man she considered a friend: a man who was _her father's_ best friend, had placed his hand on her's in a gesture reserved for an far relationship of far more intimacy than theirs ever could be. He didn't even know why he did it either, its not like he had any real desire to-

Oh, who was he kidding. He'd had feeling for her since the moment he'd seen her unmasked in that courtyard almost two years before. Perhaps before that, even, since the moment they'd first met. She'd been disguised as a man then, leading to many other questions he'd had to ask himself.

Robin sighed into his hands. None of that mattered at any rate, it would never work out between them. She was his best friend's daughter, and even if only a small handful of years lay between them he could not erase the generation wide gap. _And what happens when this is over? She'll return to her own time, that's what, _a voice in the back of his head chided. _How could you be with her then?_

Even if that could be ignored, how could he hope to think she harbored feeling for him in return? Not when she was so strong and brave and kind and beautiful, gods was she beautiful, while he… While he wasn't strong nor particularly brave. She deserved someone like her, someone strong enough to stand by her side and keep her safe, who could help her face the countless hardships she's faced her whole life. He? He could barely help to bear the weight of the duty that had been lain upon her.

_She deserves so much better than me…._

Yet try as he might his mind kept wandering back to the sensation of Lucina's skin against the palm of his hand: its softness and warmth. He blushed again, embarrassed at the directions his thoughts had taken.

He was doomed, simple as that.

**. . . . .**

Lucina slumped against a tree once she was far out of sight, covering her face in her hands. "_Naga_, how could I be so foolish?" She whispered, letting herself slide down the length the tree until she sat down in the grass. What could she do now? In truth she had more than an hour's time before she was set to relieve Sir Frederick's watch. She couldn't return to her tent now, nor could she return back to the fireside with Robin...

_Robin._

Gods, what did Robin think of her now? It hadn't been his fault he'd accidentally place his hand on her's, _she'd_ been the one who'd inched her hand towards towards him. The embarrassed look on the tactician's face flashed in her mind a second time, her heart plummeting in her chest. Of course she'd embarrassed him: she was still a child to him, no matter how few years separated them in this time. A child… a child foolishly in love with her father's best friend, a man who in her own time had been decades her senior.

"A childhood crush, nothing more," she told herself, her voice a faint whisper of breath.

Lucina sighed, knowing the words were a lie the instant she spoke them. Perhaps it had started as that. Certainly, she had harbored some affection for her father's friend while growing up, something she'd thought was long since past her. Then she'd come to this time, only to find that affection rekindled. She'd gotten to how her father's tactician, had a chance to see who he really was.

He was so much more open in this timeline, in her future he'd always seemed distant and almost sad. Perhaps it was because of his lost memories, something that never had been in her own timeline. Or maybe it was merely because he was younger in this time and had not yet faced the same hardships of his future counterpart. Maybe that was the trouble of it, here she could not see him as the mysterious and brooding man she'd remembered from her childhood, but as a close friend.

_Its hopeless to think it could ever work between us, _Lucina told herself, shaking her head in the futility of desiring otherwise. _He doesn't care for me like that, he just… he's just is looking after me the same way he does everyone else. And even if he did, I'm another world. Once my duty is done, you must leave. I know I must. _She continued with similar arguments, repeating against and again every reason to the foolishness of it all.

_He deserves someone who can stay by his side, something I can never do..._

Yet despite it all, she could not keep her thoughts from sensation of Robin's hand brushing against her own. And how right it had felt.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** I figured it was about time I write something that takes place before Robin and Lucina are couple. I figured it would be nice to have them both acting like big dorks and getting embarrassed, not to mention them both just assuming the other doesn't feel the same way they do.

In other news, I have hit writer's block on the retelling of Morgan's recruitment mission, so that oneshot is going to the back burner. So expect more of these shorted ones for the time being.


	9. Warmth

**Title:** Warmth

**Description: **After two years of loneliness, Lucina had forgotten just how good the warmth of another could feel.

**Notes: **Take place two years following the events of Fire Emblem Awakening on the morning after _Love Across Time: I'm Here Now_.

* * *

She'd forgotten what it was like to feel the warmth of another are her side.

There was a something special about being close to someone you loved, a magic that could not easily be explained. The warmth of their touch, the music of two hearts beating as one, the whisper of breath. No matter where you are there you feel safe, the arms of a loved one a refuge from the troubles and pain of the world. The feeling that you belong, and that nothing can ever change that.

And she'd forgotten.

Two years of waking up alone could do that, the memories of sensations fading away with each passing day, becoming little more than a whisper of a far off time. Gentle warmth and a comforting presence replaced by a cold, empty bed.

_But not any more._

Lucina stared into Robin's face, his expression one of profound contentment as he dozed peacefully. Shafts of golden light cast long shadows across the walls of her bedroom, the sun just starting to peek out over the horizon. His presence was fire, radiating warmth to fill every corner of her soul, matching the very brilliance of the dawn

_He was back._

Those simple words rushed through every fiber of her being, a tingle of unfurled joy climbing up her spine. The day before had been a whirlwind, filled with tearful reunions and celebration, releasing the all the pent up emotions of the last two years. But even that could not compare to this moment… to waking up in the arms of the man she loved.

Reaching out, Lucina stroked his stark white hair, soaking in the sensation of its textures as it ran through her fingers. "You came back to me… just like you promised you would," she whispered. She leaned her head against his shoulder, filling her lungs with his scent.

_I was so lonely..._

Lucina blinked, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she recalled the countless nights alone. And the dreams… the horrible, torturous dreams in which she was with Robin, experiencing joy again only for it to be snatched away when she awakened. Yes, waking up alone was the worst part: realising the happiness had been nothing more than an cruel phantasm of what she had lost…

Robin's hand closed around her's squeezing it gently. Lucina blinked, peering intently at the face of the still very asleep tactician. She smiled, shaking her head with a stifled laugh. I suppose that's what's so amazing about him. _He always knows exactly how to cheer me up, even when he's not aware he's doing it._

Nuzzling closer, Lucina basked in the radiant joy of his body against her's. He was fire, melting the ice their time apart had encased her heart. Murmuring contently, she tucked her head under his chin. Robin subconsciously wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulled her closer to his chest.

The was something special about the warmth of another at her side. And it was a something she would never let go of, not ever again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is quite possibly the shortest one shot I've ever written, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. Next chapter will be something a bit more humor based, just to break up the back to back romantic fluff of the last few ones.

As I mentioned before, I am open for requests and suggestions on what one-shots I should do next. While I can't make any promises on when I'll get to them, I do intend to get to any I get eventually.

So far the requeggestions (that's a word, right?) I have on my to-do list are…

Morgan's recruitment mission

Lucina's judgement

The progression of Robin and Lucina confessing their love (started that in the previous one-shot, and will be coming back to it occasionally.)

Aftermath of Robin's sacrifice and his return two years later. (This will be a multi-chapter set of oneshots. I plan to tackle this when I have more free time to give it the attention it deserves)

In other news, I am so freaken hype for Fire Emblem: If right now, especially with the news that the Amiibos will add Robin and Lucina to your castle and let you interact with them. I am going to say right now, I would die of happiness if they included some sort of subtle hint at Robin x Lucina if you have both Amiibos. Like, just some sort of reference to their hotspring scramble conversation, or something. Anything! I even managed to get the Lucina Amiibo (though i still need to get her "tiny plastic husband")


	10. Frozen Ambush

**Title:** Frozen Ambush

**Description: **Snow can be fun, but it can be difficult to do so when no one wants to join you. But what if the others have a good reason for wanting to stay in doors?

**Notes: **Take place six years following the events of Fire Emblem Awakening and four years following _A Future Disowned._

* * *

"Come on and join me, Lucina. Why stay cooped up inside all day when we could have fun out here?" Robin called up to the where his wife's head was peeking out through an open window. All around him snowflakes drifted gracefully in the breeze to join the blanket of white that covered the palace grounds and beyond.

The snow had started some time late into the previous evening, some time after the two have them had arrived with the two little-ones to take part in the winter solstice festivle with the rest of the royal family. The snow hadn't come at a better time too, the celebration was only two days away now, and heavy snow was a rarity this far south.

"I'd rather stay here where it's warm, I'm afraid," Lucina replied, shaking her head. "The fire is nice and hot chocolate has been prepared in the kitchens."

"Where's the fun in that? Out here we could make snow angels or build a snowman, or... oooh, a big snow fort. I've always wanted to do that," Robin said. "Do you know the last time Ylisstol had this much snow? Eight years ago, and I can't remember that far back, if I was even in the country when it happened… still not quite sure where I spend most of my life…" He shook himself before his attention could shift any further afield. _Right, convince Lucina to play in the snow._ _Much_ _more important._

"Robin, I'm not too sure that's the best idea. You'll catch a cold unless you put on something warmer than your coat. Not to mentioned I heard that-" Lucina started to argue.

"Oh come on, please?" He he asked, interrupting her.. Throwing up his hands he spun around, gesturing to the endless expanse of snow that blanketed the capital. "Gods, since when has everyone gotten so boring as to not want to enjoy a day like this."

"I think that's the problem, some of us seem to be enjoying it far too much," Lucina half said, half muttered, her voice only just loud enough for Robin to make out.

Robin cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you see-"

"Now!"

Something hard and cold struck Robin in the back of the head, staggering him with the sudden impact. He had not so much as an instant to react before another of the frigid projectile smashed into his shoulder, showering him in white powder as it disintegrated. It wasn't until the third or fourth that he recognised the weapons as snowballs. Which could only mean…

"Morgan!" Robin bellowed, wincing under the continued stream of snowy missiles. Shielding himself with his arms he whirled around in search of his daughter. For an instant he glimpsed the unmistakable flash of azure hair and tactician's coat darting out from behind a tree before a snowball managed to slip between his arms to struck him in the face.

Frantically brushing the powdered snow from his eyes, Robin staggered back under the constant barrage. There was no way only Morgan was responsible, the rate of the incoming attacks made that much obvious. Not to mention, you know, the fact that they _were_ coming in from multiple directions. Hidden amongst the snow covered foliage he spied Morgan's allies in the ambush, consisting of Marc, Cynthia, and Lucina's younger self

"Ow. Ow! Dammit, you four, when I get my hands on you I'll-"

"Operation: Snow Gremlins, now!" Morgan shouted.

Snow erupted from the ground as what had appeared to be three odd lumps were revealed to be Morgan's, Marc's, and Cynthia's younger selves as the three little ones sprung to their feat. They must have buried themselves to remain hidden until he'd been forced back to this point. _Credit where credit is due, Morgan executed her strategy flawlessly_.

With high pitched warcries that must have sounded more impressive to them than in reality, the three toddlers threw themselves into the already off balance tactician. Arms flailing he toppled over, stunned despite the rather soft landing the snow provided. At once the little demons were on him, pinning him to the ground, shoving handfuls of snow down his collar or into his sleeves.

"Now scatter! Marc, Operation: Avalanche!" Morgan bellowed from somewhere fall off. With surprising efficiency the three little-ones scrambled off of him, giggling as they scurried away.

"Elwind!" Marc's voice cried out.

A sudden burst of wind rushed over Robin's head, striking the branches of a tree directly above him… the branches of a tree that had been packed with as much snow as they could bare.

_Oh, that's clever._

With a roar the snow slipped through the branches like an oncoming tide, a sudden weight crashing down onto his chest. A cloud of powdered snow billowed everywhere, obscuring the world in a haze of glittering white.

Cold. Everything was so cold.

Blinking open his eyes as the dust settled, Robin found himself buried under a mound of snow. Only his head, a foot, and a forearm remained visible above ground, the rest of him entombed in an icy prison.

"Retreat!" Morgan ordered, the crunching footsteps of she and her allies fading into the distance as they scattered out of sight.

For a long while Robin stared up as the sky, stunned by what just occurred. _I just wanted to enjoy the damn snow… was that too much to ask? Was it?"_

"Robin?" Lucina asked, speaking up at last from where she'd remained at her open window.

"Yes?" Robin groaned, raising his head as upright as was possible whilst still mostly buried.

"I tried to warn you… apparently my father got ambushed the same way earlier today. A couple of the servants too," Lucina explained. From her tone he was sure his wife was forcing herself from bursting into laughter.

"Yeah… I figured that now…" He slumped back down.

"So, hot chocolate now?" Lucina asked, this time unable to keep her voice free of giggles.

"Sounds lovely. I'll be there in a minute… just going to lay her for a bit… and rethink my life choices."

_Yeah, teach your psychotic daughter to be a tactician. What could have possibly gone wrong with that. Dammit future me._

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry about the delay on this one, I have been really busy lately. I plan to have another short one up some time by the weekend to make up for it.

I felt this chapter would be a nice break from the constant fluff and instead focus on something a bit more humorous. And what better example of this could be better than Robin becoming the victim of his psychotic daughter's antics?


	11. What all men fear

**Title:** What all men fear

**Description: **After several close calls, Lucina decides it is time they get it over with and tell her father about her and Robin's relationship. If only Robin thought it was as good an idea.

**Notes: **Take place during the Valm arc, about a week following Robin and Lucina's S-support conversation.

* * *

"Robin, my father's coming," Lucina gasped, pulling away suddenly from the passionate kiss the two had been sharing.

Sure enough the unmistakeable deep baritone could be heard somewhere just out of sight behind a row of tents. From the sound of it he was one of the army's staff, the other voice being one Robin did recognise, growing closer with each passing instant.

Frantically untangling themselves from each other's embrace, he and Lucina shoved themselves away from one another, Robin nearly tipping over in his haste. Chrom was close now, his footsteps now audible. Each crunch sent ever heightened surges of panic coursing through the tactician. He was dead, _so_ very dead.

Scooping up his discarded book, he dove back down onto the overturned log next to Lucina, only further apart than the two had been situated in their more intimate moment. The other voice had vanished now, the only ever loader footfalls marking Chrom's approach. A small gasp left Lucina's throat, the princess quickly snatching the book from his hands before returning it, right side up this time, before retrieving Falchion and the cleaning cloth she kept on hand for this very purposes, making it seem like she was occupied cleaning the weapon.

It was not a moment too soon either, Chrom rounding the corner. Glancing up over the rim of his book as if he'd only then noted his friend's presence, Robin dipped in head in greeting and prayed to every god he knew of as well as every one he didn't that the disarray his cloths were in would go unnoticed.

"Robin, Lucina," Chrom greeted each of them in turn, his voice carrying with it a profound weariness. Sighing, he took up a seat across from them, dragging his hands over his face with a deep groan.

"Long day?" Robin asked. He struggled to keep his voice steady as his heart continued to pound in his chest. Please don't find out, please don't find out.

"You could say that," Chrom replied. "Its been one thing after another all damn day, I swear with the Valmese don't kill me, it'll be trying to keep this army together. All I wanted was to get a good meal and get some rest, but instead I had to listen to the entire cooking staff chew my ears out."

"What's got them riled up?"

"Apparently _someone_ left a crate filled with severed limbs amongst the rest of the army's footstuffs."

"Henry," Robin stated flatly. It was not a question.

"Henry," Chrom confirmed, sighing again. "I'm glad he's on our side instead of the enemy's, but we can't keep dealing with him scaring the pants off of the rest of the army. Do you think you can talk to him tomorrow, see if you can explain the situation?"

"I can try, but I'm not sure how much good it will do," Robin said. Noting Chrom's questioning look, he explained, "I tried to tell him it wasn't a good idea to keep his 'collection' with the other supplies and that is might frighten people, but I don't think he listened to anything I said…" He trailed off, shrugging.

"But did you ask him to get rid of it?" Chrom arched an eyebrow.

"Well... no…" Robin said, frowning as the words left his lips.

Chrom rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Robin, you need to be a bit more assertive sometimes. Just... try to make him understand the problem this time, okay?"

"I will, I will," Robin assured him, returning his gaze to his book. Not that he was actually reading it, but he still needed to keep up appearances and all that.

"So..." Chrom said, speaking up after a long period of silence. "You two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

It took every ounce of self control he possessed to keep from flying into a babbling, sweaty, panic. His heart stopped in his chest, his eyes shot wide. _This is it. He's found out. I'm dead. I'm going to die. _He opened his mouth, frantically searching for something, anything to save him from the spectre of death now looming before him.

Fortunately, Lucina came to his rescue, answering the question for him. "Robin has been attempting to spent more time with myself and my other friends better lately. Just tonight we were eating together with Yarne, Laurent, and Severa, but they left to get rest not long before you arrived I am afraid," Lucina explained. It wasn't an lie either, they had shared dinner with the three Lucina had mentioned. She just… left out some details regarding what happened after they'd left.

"I figured since I already know all of the other Shepherds so well, I should try to get to know our 'new recruits' a bit better," Robin added quickly, somehow managing to speak those words without sounding like a complete nervous wreck. _Hooray, go me._

For a moment Robin feared that Chrom would not buy their answer, the Exalt staring at them for a long moment. Then as last he nodded, a hint of smile tugging at his lips.

"Good, very good. Honestly, I've been worried that you and your friends have been keeping to yourselves too much and not feeling like part of the group, Lucina. But I'm glad Robin has been is trying to make all of you feel more at home." He looked between each of them in turn, his smile deepening.

Chrom looked as though he was about to say something more, only to close his mouth as the sound of hurried footsteps could be heard. For an instant the three of them tensed, hands going for their weapons, then relaxed as a man in a cook's apron pushed his way through the tends.

"Gods, what is it now," Chrom groaned. "Sorry, I need to take this." Standing, the exalt stepped away to meet the approaching man, who had once began speaking in a rapid, almost frantically angry tone.

More likely than not it was the same person Chrom had been speaking to before, whom Robin now recognised him as one of the heads of the mess hall's staff from his uniform. He spoke to Chrom in a frantic, urgent tone, but otherwise Robin could not make out what was said. After another moment the cook turned and hurried away, leaving Chrom standing there, cradling his head in his hands.

"Chrom?"

"Apparently…" Chrom started through clenched teeth, the full extend frustration painted onto his face. "...while the staff were busy moving Henry's 'collection', _someone _snuck into the kitchen tent and stole every jar of honey they had. As well as the sweet-cakes they'd been baking, from what I was told/"

"Gaius," Robin said. Again, it was not a question.

Chrom nodded. "I'm sorry, you two will have to excuse me while I deal with this. Gods know someone has too." With that he turned and hurried away, once again leaving Robin and Lucina alone.

Robin waited several second after Chrom's footsteps had faded before releasing a pent up breath, slumping in his seat. "That was a close one… I thought he'd had us there for a moment…"

"It was indeed a close call," Lucina agreed. Setting her cleaning rag aside, she leaned Falchion back up against the log next to her. "We can't keep doing this you know. My father is going to find out eventually and it will be best if he does so from us rather than others. Or, gods forbid, him walking in on us like what almost happened this night."

"But we… we can't tell him. He'll skin me alive if he finds out about… us…" Robin felt his entire face burn bright red at the mere mention of his and Lucina's relationship. Gods, they'd been together for a week now and he still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"I believe you're over exaggerating, Robin," Lucina said. "Even if he does get upset, I don't think he'd attempt to harm you."

"Really? Because I'm not so sure," Robin replied, throwing up his arms in exasperation. "Besides, what am I supposed to tell him? 'Hey, Chrom. I know you're my best friend, but I decided to date your daughter from the future because I think she's beautiful, smart, brave, and the most amazing person I've...'." He trailed off, suddenly aware of what he'd been saying. His cheeks burned even more than they had before, sure now his face had managed to turn an even deeper shade of scarlet.

He felt Lucina's hand wrap around his own, giving him a gentle squeeze. Turning his head, he saw that she was smiling softly. "I know how scary it must seem, but we can't keep us secret forever. If not my father, someone else is bound to find out eventually. If they havn't already."

"Y-you think someone knows?" Robin asked, a sudden panic seizing hold of his chest.

"I believe my mother might know, or at least suspects," Lucina said, explaining," three days ago she noted that the two of us have been spending an awful lot of time together. When I tried to evade the subject, she handed me a stack of her favorite novels of a… of a particular sort." It was Lucina's turn to have her face burn pink, so that there was no mistake as to what kind of books Sumia had given her.

"Of course she did," Robin muttered, releasing the breath he'd been holding.

"So will you agree to tell him?" Lucina asked. "It will be better to have it done with sooner rather than later."

Robin sighed, his shoulders slumping. "You're right… I don't want to do it but… you're right…" He looked up, meeting her gaze. "You promise he won't try to kill me."

"I promise," Lucina assured him, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She looked so beautiful in that moment, moonlight shimmering in the depths of her deep blue eyes, giving them an almost luminous quality. Something about her, standing there with him, seemed to wash away every fear and worry, leaving him with a profound sense of peace.

Robin nodded slowly. :Alright… lets just get this over with. Before I change my mind, okay?"

Together they walked in silence, making their through camp until they reached Chrom's tent. Flickering light streamed out from between the two closed flaps, coming from several lit candles. Other than that nothing moved, not a sound could be heard from within.

Robin froze dead in his tracks. Fear, fear greater than anything he'd felt before strangling his heart. Fear greater than the terror of fighting for his life in battle, greater than the knowledge of knowing his every mistake could lead to the deaths of so countless many. It was fear of something far worse: telling a father that he was in love with his daugher. Only in this case that father just happened to be his best friend.

"Robin?" Lucina asked, turning to gaze at him.

"W-What if he's not here?" Robin stammered, unable to contain her terror any longer.

"If he isn't we will go look for him elsewhere," Lucina replied gently.

"This… this isn't a good idea, we should-"

"Its going to be alright, Robin. It'll be fine," she assured him.

"What if he doesn't approve of us? What if he forbids us from being together?" Robin continued, his eyes wide.

"Robin." Lucina grabbed his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "Even if he does, I do not intend to let that stop me. It is I who decides who I am allowed to love, not my father." She smiled, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I know you're afraid, but just remember I'll be right there with you"

"You mean it?" Robin asked, his voice coming as little more than a whisper.

Lucina nodded.

"You'll stay with me the whole time?" He asked again. He gave her hand a squeeze

"The whole time," Lucina said.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Robin turned back to the tent. He held onto Lucina's hand as tight as he could, mustering up every bit of courage his possessed. Sucking in a breath, he opened his eyes, and as one they stepped inside to face the one thing that all men feared.

_The girl's father. _

* * *

**Author's Note:** So this was my attempt at covering an often requested look at how Robin ended up revealing his and Lucina's relationship to Chrom. I decided against showing the actual reveal scene, as it is something that has already been done a hundred different ways and I cannot honestly say I have anything new to add to it. Instead I decided to focus on showing the moments before hand, as I imagine that in this case Robin would be far more terrified than Lucina, who would get to have a chance here to be the supportive one in the relationship (there are far too many stories with Lucina being the vulnerable one and not enough with Robin taking that role, so I like giving Lucina her fair share).

If you must know, the actual conversation went down something like this. Robin tells Chrom, who surprisingly doesn't punch Robin (despite the jokes Robin has made to the contrary), but does appear angry. He asks Lucina to leave so he can talk to Robin alone, with Lucina agreeing to it once Chrom promises that he's not going to do anything. Then he, rather bluntly and forcefully tells Robin to explain why he thinks he should be with Lucina, to which Robin would explain his feelings. This would satisfy Chrom, who would then reveal he was really more upset that Robin didn't tell him before hand and instead tried to hide it from him. So yeah, stuff that's been done a zillion times before.


	12. The Real Me

**Title:** The Real Me

**Description: **Figuring out who you are can be difficult sometimes. This cannot be more true when you can't even _remember _who you were. Do your memories define you? Or is the real you something that could be buried deep under the surface.

**Notes: **Set prior to the conclusion of _Fire Emblem: Awakening_, a few days after chapter 23.

* * *

"What was I like, Lucina?"

Lucina shifted in his arms, stirring from the onset of sleep. She lifted her head, her expression perplexed at his question. "Mhmm?" She blinked her still half-lidded eyes, the promise of sleep refusing to let go of her just yet.

"It's nothing important," he told her, shaking his head. "I was just… wondering if you remembered what I was like. In your world, before…" He shrugged, trailing off. "As I said, it's not important. If you'd rather rest, I can-"

"No… no, its alright. I'm not so tired I'll be falling asleep in your arms just yet." A small smiled crept across Lucina's lips. Seemingly that last thought seemed just as appealing to her as it had to him. Then slowly the smile faded, her expression becoming one of pensive reflection. It was a long while before she spoke again, and when she did her voice seemed more distant, as is wandering through far off memories. "You were… distant. The mysterious friend of my father who was always around, but no one knew much about. I can't recall you speaking very often, and when you did it was almost always with my father. You'd always have your hood up, too, I honestly can't remember many times that I saw your face…"

Robin nodded, but otherwise said nothing, letting Lucina continue her recollection. The last thing he wanted then was the interrupt.

"Sometimes, when my father and mother were busy, you'd look after me for them. We'd go to the castle's library, and you'd teach me about history and read me stories about all the great heroes. Honestly, I use to think you'd made up half of it. The stories just seemed to grand to be true." She laughed, beaming at him joyfully.

"Heh, sounds like something I'd do. Though unless future me was a better liar than I am, can't say I could have pulled it off," Robin remarked, adding a soft chuckle to his wife's laughter.

"I suppose that's true. You _are_ a terrible liar, Robin," Lucina said."Those times were all too few, I'm afraid. What I remember most was that you always seemed sad… lonely… yet you were always kind to me and everyone else…" A hint of a wistful smile tugged at her lips. "I remember not liking that, how you looked so sad all the time. I think I tried a hundred different ways to get you to smile, but nothing ever seemed to work. Still, I wished I could just see you smile, just once. To see you happy."

For a long while Robin said nothing, processing everything she'd told him.

"I knew," he said at last, letting the statement hang in the air.

"You knew what?" Lucina asked, cocking her head to one side questioningly.

"Future me, he must have known he was Grima's vessel," Robin expressed, his voice little more than a whisper. "I think… I think that's why he was so distant from everyone. It was the weight of that knowledge, that destiny… knowing that now has made it very hard to smile…"

"You aren't him, Robin. Whatever that Robin did, you aren't to blame. I've told you this." Lucina twisted around in his lap to face him. Reaching up she caressed his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes.

"But I could have been him, Lucina. If I hadn't..." He trailed off, the words he'd been about to speak becoming stuck in his throat. It was a thought that had plagued him since the moment he'd awoken in that field those three years ago, the day all of this started.

"...if I hadn't I lost my memories," he finished, the words falling bitterly from his lips. "I would have been just like him, Lucina. Am I even the real me? Is this," he motioned to himself, "...who I even truely am? Without my memories, am I not the person I was meant to be?"

Lucina gripped his hand, forcing him to look back at her. "No, I don't think that Robin. I think that it was only without your memories that we finally got to meet the real you."

"What do you mean?" He asked, eyes going wide at the unexpected answer.

"All throughout my childhood you were alone, isolated because you were in pain. You were afraid of letting anyone close, because you knew about Grima, knew your connection to him. After being chased and hunted your whole life, I think you couldn't bear the thought of being hurt again, or hurting someone else…"

She put her hand on his chest, her touch sending chills down his spine. "But when you lost your memories, you were freed from all that. You became the kind, caring, and wonderful person you were always meant to be, because you no longer were trapped by the shadow of what you might have become. You're the Robin I always wished I could see... the Robin who smiled." And with that Lucina smiled, leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.

A rush of heat filled his cheeks, blushing at her display of affection. There was something infectious about her smile, merely seeing her happy filling him with an radiant joy he could scarcely describe. Perhaps that;s why she'd always wanted to see him smile, if his happiness did the same for her. "And only because you're there to make me smile, Lucina." And so he smiled, overcome by the warmth and power of her love for him in that moment. "And I'm happy that this time, I could make your wish come true."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, this one-shot took a bit longer than expected, though for once it was partially by choice. See, I started this one last Wednesday, and after about an hours work I had half of it written. So, figuring I could use a break and could do so while also gathering inspiration, I decided to check my follows alters to read others stories. Then I read the newest chapter of _Cold Tea_, leaned back and said "goddammit!" Basically if you haven't read said story (which you should, that story is far better than mine) the chapter just so happened to cover a similar scene to what I did here. That temporarily killed my enthusiasm to write this chapter, so that plus deciding to distance it a bit delayed things by a couple days. Still, hope you guys enjoyed this!


	13. A Mother's Love

**Title:** A Mother's Love

**Description: **Morgan can be a real handful sometimes, but no matter what antics she manages to get up to, Lucina will always love her daughter.

**Notes: **Set during the events of Valm arc.

* * *

"Honestly, Morgan, I don't know what you were expecting to happen." Lucina sighed, picking another twig out of her daughter's hair from where she sat behind the time displaced girl.

The young tactician was an absolute mess, covered head to toe in mud and dirt, with so many leaves and twigs stuck to her clothes that she could pass as someone who'd been mauled by a tree. None of this seemed to bother Morgan, of course, her displeased expression born of being forced to sit still while Lucina cleaned her up.

"But, Moooooom, the plan was perfect!" Morgan whined. She opened her mouth to add something, only to wince as Lucina yanked free one of the brambles caught in her bangs. "Ow... oh, where was I... right, my super awesome plan of genius planning! See, I made like a bajillion traps so my pray would have have no escape! I just... forgot where one of them was is all... It was a minor oversight, I will admit."

"Yes, because ending up dangling upside down by your ankle is a 'minor oversight'," Lucina noted, rolling her eyes. "What I want to know is how you managed to get this messy, stuck in a tree."

"... messy? What do you... Ooooohhh, you mean my super stealth camouflage!" Morgan's eyes lit up at this, nearly falling out of the chair as she threw up her arms.

"Stealth camouflage?" Lucina arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah! It lets me blend into my surroundings like a chameleon. A super stealthy, invisible chameleon!" Morgan explained, bobbing her head up and down cheerfully. "That way I can lie in wait, hidden until my quarry falls into my cunning trap of cunningness."

"And what, dare I ask, were you planning to catch?" Lucina asked. Moving to her daughter's side, she knelt down, tugging at the hem of her mud-soaked coat. "Stick out your arms," she instructed, beginning to process of removing her dirty apparel.

"mharnmph," Morgan muttered through closed lips, so quietly that Lucina almost didn't hear it, let alone make out the unintelligible response. She averted her gaze, quickening her pace as she removed what was left of her tactician's garb, until she was left with just her smallclothes.

"Morgan," Lucina scolded.

"I was trying to trap Yarne..." Morgan mumbled, crossing her arms with an indignant _humph_.

"Right, of course you were." She sighed again, this one even more weary than the last. Tossing Morgan's things into a pile, she turned back to her daughter to regard her with what she hoped was a stern, motherly look. "Morgan, stop terrorizing Yarne. This is starting to get out of hand."

"But mooooom, his screams of terror are so adooorable and cute! Also, while he's trapped I can play with his ears and-"

"Morgan," Lucina repeated, interrupting her.

"But... but... fine, I'll stop... funburgler," Morgan relented, pouting in the same manner as a young child who'd been told to eat their vegetables.

"Good." Nodding, Lucina put a hand on Morgan's shoulder, leading her over to the wooden tub she'd brought into her tent

Her arms still crossed, Morgan dropped down to sit cross-legged at the tub's center, keeping her gazed fixed squarely on the far 'wall'.

"You know its not nice to pick on others, Morgan. You're better than this..." Lucina said gently, her expression softening. Reaching out, she brushed aside the mud caked bangs from Morgan's face, who let out a puff of air at the touch.

"I know... its just... I don't know..." Morgan grumbled, shaking her head. "I figured if-" Her words were lost in a yelp of surprise as Lucina poured the first of the buckets of water she'd prepared over Morgan's head.

"Sorry, the water is cold. Please, continue," Lucina said gently

Shivering, Morgan nodded, resuming where she left off. "Well... I just figured if I picked on him enough I could get him to act braver. He'd be so used to being terrified of me that he wouldn't be scared during our next battle. But I guess instead I just became a big, dumb bully..."

"It's alright, Morgan. I know you didn't mean any harm. Lets just consider today's mishap a lesson and perhaps a bit of karma, okay?" Lucina said. Reaching down, she picked up the second bucket and the brush leaning next to it. "Hold still," she instructed, slowly pouring water over her daughter's head, and gently brushing away the grime and muck still clinging to her hair as she went.

"S-so, are you disappointed in me?" Morgan asked, stuttering as she gazed up at her with big, round eyes. "I... I don't want you to be upset with me. I'd feel awful... like I screwed things up. I already can't remember anything about you from my world, and … and I don't want to keep failing you as your daughter…

Lucina blinked, shocked to see tears pooling in the corners of her daughter's eyes. She hadn't known… hadn't known how how deeply her lack of memories had affected her. "Morgan… you know that isn't true."

Reaching for her things, Lucina dug out a clean tunic and a towel before returning her attention to Morgan. Helping her out of the tub, she began helping her daughter dry off, continuing in a gentle tone, "It has never mattered whether or not you can remember me, it's the time we've spent here and now that is truly important to me." Setting the towel aside, Lucina pulled the tunic down over Morgan's head, the too-large garment hanging down to her knees.

"I could never be mad at you, not truly. I may not understand half the things you do, let alone why. But that doesn't matter: I love you no matter what crazy thing you'll end up doing next, and I'll always be proud of you.

"Mother…" Morgan whispered. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her lip quivering. Then at once she lunged, throwing her arms around Lucina into the biggest hug she'd ever seen.

"It's okay, Morgan, no tears," Lucina murmured gently, returning the embrace She ran her hands through her daughter's azure hair, the same way she often did for Robin when he was upset by something. "I know you're trying really hard, and that alone means the world to me."

Morgan sniffed, tucking her head closer against Lucina's shoulder. "But… but w-what if I'm not trying hard enough? I'm pay all my attention to father, t-trying to be just like him. I feel like… like I'm not trying enough to be like you."

"Just because you take after your father doesn't mean you failed me. You are who you are, Morgan. You are my daughter, and that will never change." To punctuate her point she placed her hand on the back of Morgan's hand, where the Brand of the Exalt shone on her skin. An idea occurred to her then, a small smile tugging at her lips. Removing her tiara, Lucina brushed Morgan's bangs to either side before setting the golden band atop her head. Morgan stirred, looking up at her with confusion upon her face. "Better? Now you look the part of my daughter," Lucina explained, her smile deepening.

"How do I look?" Morgan asked, wiping the wetness from her eyes.

"Like a real princess," Lucina said, brushing a spot Morgan had missed.

"A really real princess?" Morgan repeated, her eyes seeming to grow impossibly large.

"The realist real princess there ever was." Lucina giggled. "And the best daughter I could ever ask for."

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, I decided I would try something new (at least, new for me, lol) and have a chapter focusing wholly on Lucina being a mother and interact with Morgan when Robin isn't around. I hope I did a good job in this regard.


	14. First Aid

**Title:** First Aid

**Description:** Robin can be stubborn sometimes, maybe even _too_ stubborn for his own good when it comes to looking after himself. Often times he needs an extra push, someone to look after him when he won't

**Notes: **Takes place during the Valm arc and the early stages of Robin and Lucina's relationship.

* * *

"Robin, this is ridiculous. You're hurt and you need to see a healer," Lucina argued, frustration mounting with each passing moment. Honestly, it astounded her how a man so intelligent could act in such complete disregard for his own well being.

Earlier that day the Shepherds engaged in a skirmish with a small group of Valmese troops. The battle was short, quick, and clean with the larger and more experienced force routing the light cavalry with little difficulty. However, it was during this battle Robin had been injured, an arrow managing to find a gap in his breastplate and pierce his side. Not that he'd informed anyone of this: no, instead he spent the last several hours marching with an untreated wound.

Gods, knowing Robin it would have likely gone on unattended to if she hadn't noticed the blood staining his armor after they'd stopped to make camp.

"It's not too bad that it can't wait. Honestly, I can last long enough to help set up camp, so there's no sense bothering the healers with it," Robin said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Robin, be reasonable, you can't just ignore your own well being like this. What if you were hurt worse and you keeled over on us during the march. Or worse. Where would we be then? Do you really want that?" Lucina countered, regarding the tactician with a stern look.

"I'm _fine_. It's barely more than a scratch, Lucina. My armor stopped the worst of it and the whole head didn't even pierce the skin," Robin assured her, a force smile filling his lips.

"Even if this is so, the minor wound may become infected if not treated," Lucina argued. Stepping in quickly before he could escape, Lucina wrapped her arms around one of his. "There is no sense arguing, I do not intend on releasing you until you agree to see a healer. Or at the very least allow me to clean the injury myself. The others can begin setting up camp without us."

Robin opened his mouth as if to argue, stopped, then shut it again with a sigh of defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll let you take a look at it… Let's just make this quick..."

"Right," Lucina nodded. She loosened her grip slightly then stopped, gazing at the tactician with renewed suspicion. "You aren't going to attempt to flee as soon as I let go, are you?"

"If I were, I wouldn't rate my chances at escaping all that highly." Robin chuckled, his smile genuine this time. "But if I must, 'I promise I won't try to run away'. That acceptable?"

"It will suffice," Lucina said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Releasing him from his grip, the two set off to the convoy. Picking out the cart carrying the Shepherds' medical supplies, Lucina dug out a roll of clean bandages and a small clay jar of healing salve. Stopping only to grab a waterskin whose contents had already been disinfected, she led her patient to a spot at the very edge of camp. The row of trees provided cover from spying eyes, allowing them some degree of privacy.

Sitting Robin down on a rock opposite of her, Lucina began to lay out the gathered medical supplies. Satisfied that they were within reach, Lucina turned back to Robin, finding that he'd already begun to remove his gear without needing to be prompted to. His coat had been draped over a low hanging branch, and she watched him removed his breastplate, wincing as he set it aside. A small hole could be seen in the side of his shirt, surrounded by a dark circle of dried blood.

"Right then, lets get this over with," Robin said, grimacing. Sheepishly he lifted the hem of his tunic up, exposing the wound. As he'd claimed the injury did not appear all that serious, no more than and inch long and at most half as deep. Still, blood oozed slowly from the puncture, having failed to scab over from the hours of long travel while yet untreated.

"Hold still," Lucina instructed. Grabbing the bottom his tunic, she pulled it up over Robin's head before he could do so much as yelp in protest. Setting the stained garment aside, she began the process of cleaning the wound, washing away the dried blood and sweat with the contents of the waterskin. Robin averted his gaze as she worked, his cheeks reddening each time her skin brushed against his.

Gently patting the spot dry with a clean cloth, Lucina turned her attention to the treatment itself. Removing the lid on the clay jar, she scooped out a large glob of the pale-green paste with two fingers. Slowly and carefully she smeared the salve over the open wound. A shiver ran through Robin at her touch, his face darkening to an even deeper shade of pink than before.

Blushing as well now, Lucina hurried to finish her work. Cutting two lengths of bandage, she first folded the smaller of the two into a square, placing it directly over top of the wound before wrapping the longer length around his torso, binding it in place. Finishing with a knot, Lucina shuffled back, examining her handiwork for mistakes. She wasn't the most skilled healer out there, but she did know how to field dress an injury when the need arises. Still, she wished Robin would have agreed to see a more experienced healer such as her aunt Lissa or perhaps Brady.

Without realizing it her eyes began to wander over Robin's exposed chest, tracing the lines of his lean, toned muscles. It struck her that she'd never really appreciated just how fit he was, his wiry build a testament to his prowess with a sword, just as his brilliant mind was reflected in his spellcasting talent. _Gods, how was it possible for him to get even more attractive than before?_

"Lucina? C-Can I put my shirt back on?" Robin stuttered, his face deep crimson under her lingering gaze.

Lucina started, jerked suddenly back to reality by his words. Her cheeks burned with such intensity she was sure they'd burst into flames. Ducking her head down, she scrambled for the discarded tunic, handing it to him without meeting his gaze. "I'm so very sorry, Robin. I don't know what came over me, I-"

"I-It's alright, Lucina. I just… you were staring at my chest a bit intently there and I…" Robin stammered, quickly pulling his stained shirt back on. "Gods, I don't mean to say I wish you hadn't, it's just… I, well, I wasn't expecting it and..." He swallowed hard, averting his gaze.

"Yes, right… I believe we should return to the others?" Lucina asked, quickly changing the subject. Any longer talking about this and she was sure she'd keel over and die from embarrassment.

"Y-Yes, that's a good 're probably all wondering where we wandered off too." Standing, Robin quickly gathered up his coat and discarded armor, Lucina picking up the medical supplies she used. Before she could turn away and head back to camp, however, Robin stopped her, placing a hand on her arm.

"Lucina, I appreciate what you did… looking after me like that. What you said before, you are right: I shouldn't ignore my own well being like I did." Leaning in close, he pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing her ever so sweetly. "I think I may be the luckiest man alive, with you there to look after me."

"It's the least I could do, after all you've done for my sake," Lucina answered, blinking back the sudden moistness blurring the edge of her vision. "Always, I will be there for you."

"Always."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Shout out goes to gokart48 (of _Bed Time Story _fame) for suggesting the idea for this oneshot. Next chapter will finally be the often requested look at Morgan's recruitment mission, as I think I finally have the motivation to finish that.


	15. Child of Time - Part 1

**Title: **Child of Time - Part 1

**Description: **Robin hadn't been sure what to really expect to find at the ruins of time. But even so, he definitely never expected this.

**Notes: **Part 1 of a two part retelling of Paralogue 12: Disowned By Time

* * *

Robin gazed out over the twisting expanse of stone columns, his footsteps echoing against the white stone. _Where had she gotten off to? _He frowned, scanning the ruins for the young girl he'd glimpsed further into the ruins. Hopefully she'd managed to avoid running afoul of the risen that had nearly overrun the place.

His plan had gone off without a hitch, the Shepherds managing to draw the attention of the majority of the Risen in the ruins, engaging them near the entrance. With this distraction in place Robin was able to then slip away from the others: aiming to find the girl and get her to safety while the undead monsters were otherwise occupied. While he and everyone else would have preferred if someone else had accompanied him, the number of Risen the remaining Shepherds were engaged with were simply too numerous to spare anyone else.

Besides, he could handle any stragglers he ran into.

_Then we can get the treasure those villagers told us about and get out of here._ That particular moment couldn't come sooner, something about the ruins felt… well, wrong. He couldn't quite place it to be honest, other than a presence in the air that set his teeth on edge. Like a low hum, just out of the range of his hearing. Its not natural. _There's a power here, I can feel it… and I'm not sure I like it…. Perhaps the villagers who live in the area could tell me mor-_

The rest of his thought was lost as a yelp echoed through the ruins.

_That was close close by! _Breaking into a sprint, Robin went straight for where the voice had come from. He didn't have to go far, as just around a half-collapsed wall he came across the source of the cry.

Ahead a young girl could be seen, clad in a hooded coat that hid her features from view. From her size and her voice Robin guessed she couldn't be older than her early teens. She hadn't seemed to notice him, her attention fixed on the single Risen lumbering towards her, a naked blade glinting in its hands.

The girl managed to duck without a second to spare, the sword missing her head by an inch. However in her haste her foot caught on the edge of her too-large coat and she toppled over, landing hard on her side. In an instant the risen was on her, sword held high for the killing blow.

"Elthunder!" Robin bellowed, thrusting a hand towards the Risen swordsman. A sphere of lightning lanced from his fingertips, catching the Risen the instant its blade began to fall. The impact threw it clear of the girl, the undead landing in a crumpled heap away from her.

The weaker attack however did not put the undead monster down for long. It began to stir, dragging itself up off the ground even as Robin watched. Now, though, it was far enough away that he could risk a stronger spell without fearing for harming the girl.

"Thoron!"

The massive bolt smashed into the Risen just as it lumbered to its feet, obliterating it in a blinding burst of light and heat. Dust and chips of stone rained down around the scorched and cracked stone where the monster had stood but moments before.

Pausing only to make sure there weren't any more enemies nearby , Robin trotted to the girl. "Are you alright?," he asked, extending a hand to her. "You… don't look like a treasure hunter. What brings you here?

The hooded girl looked up at him, her hood casting dark shadows over her features. At once her expression, or what he could see of it, brightened, a smile tugging at her lips. "There you are, Father! I was beginning to think we got separated."

"Oh I…" Robin's mouth snapped shut, his entire caravan of thought coming to a screeching, crashing halt as it caught up with the girl had said. His hand fell limply to his side, rational thought suddenly impossible as he stared dumbly down at her. "...I'm sorry, what?"

In a flurry of flailing limbs the girl scrambled to her feet, laughing as she staggered a step before steadying herself. "Well, no harm done. At least we can head home now," the girl continued, seeming to take no heed of his words.

_What? Wait….What!? _As confusion went, Robin felt he could probably have won an award for being the most confused person on the planet.

She began to skip in a circle around him. "Wait until mother hears about this, I bet-"

He grabbed the girl by the shoulder, holding her in place for a moment while he figured this out. "Woah, woah, woah. Hold on. Let's go back to the "Father" thing. And the coat, it looks just like..." He trailed off, his words dying in his throat. It was his coat, or at the very least an perfect replica of it. Her other clothing too was a near perfect match to his own, only fitted for her smaller frame. Could she be… no, she can't be. Lucina said he never got married in her future, never had a kid. "...Did you travel back from the future with Lucina?"

The girl tilted her head, staring at him with the quizzical look one would give a person who'd said something foolish after one too many drinks. "What are you talking about, father? Did you seriously just ask me if I came from the future? Who's Lucina? Wait… no...I think… it sounds…" She trailed off, pressing a hand to the side of her forehead.

For a brief moment she made no other move. Then stirred, shaking her head before returning her attention to him. "Don't you recognise me? Hello? It's me! Morgan! ...Your daughter? Daddy's little girl and all that?" Reaching up she tugged the hood of her coat down over her shoulders.

The world grinded to a halt as Robin stared at the girl, Morgan, standing before him, his jaw falling half open. Now that he could see her face, the resemblance to himself _was_ all too apparent: her features nearly identical to his own, if only more feminine and childlike. However, it was not this that gave him pause, what threw his entire world for a loop.

_Her hair… it's the same as… _Her unkempt mop of hair, otherwise so much like his own, was deep azure blue. Here eyes too were the same, only the absence of the mark of the exalt in her pupil breaking the otherwise perfect resemblance

_...How… How can this be possible. And what does this mean… could it…_ His mind raced in a vortex of confused emotions. _How could Lucina even be the mother? The girl was too old, too old to have been born in Lucina's future. She can't more than four or five years younger than her! But if she'd not come from that future, then where did she…_

Robin stopped, the realization hitting him like a brick wall. … _She couldn't be from that future. But who's to say she hadn't come from a different one?_

"Why are you looking at me like that? You're really acting strange today." Morgan continued, her expression managing to appear even more perplexed than before. "Grabbing onto his arm, she tugged on it to. "Let's go home and get you to bed. Hmm, but which way is home? Is it—" Morgan double over suddenly, clutching at her head. "Ngh! M-my head!"

Rushing to her side, Robin caught her before she could fall over supporting her weight against him. "Easy—don't try to force it! Just stay calm and listen to me. I know this sounds mad, but I believe that you came here from the future."

"But that's not…" Morgan trailed off, wincing as if hit by another wave of pain.

Actually, it is. You're not the first time traveler I've run into," Robin explained. He needed proof though, something to convince her of… ah, that was it! "Look, think about it. Look closely at me. Do I look like I'm of an age where I could have a child as old as you?"

"Y-you do look younger, but…" the girl stammered, shaking her head in disbelief. "If I'm from the future, then how did I get here? How did I… I can't remember… why can't I remember anything besides you?"

"It's alright. Whatever happened to send you back must have messed with your memories. I'm sure everything will come back to you soon enough, but right now you need to come with me. Traipsing around alone in your state is the worst thing you could do right now," Robin said. Kneeling down so they were at eye level, Robin put a hand on his apparent future daughter's shoulder, flashing her a reassuring smile. "I was in the same position once, you know. If Chrom hadn't found me lying in that field, who knows what would've happened to me…"

"Wait, you woke up in the middle of a field, too?" Morgan asked, her expression immediately brightening. "Hah! Like father, like daughter, huh? Oh, that's too funny!

Robin blinked once, his brain sluggish to adjust to the sudden change. "...Glad to see you inherited my blithe outlook. Just try to stay close will you? There are still more Risen around"

"Yessir!" Morgan snapped in reply, laughing as she raised a hand to her forehead.

Robin stared, the sleeve of Morgan's coat having slipped down from her hand during her salute. Set into the back of her hand was Mark of a Exalt.

"Father, what is it? Is something wrong?" Morgan asked, noticing him lingering gaze.

"It's nothing. Come on, let's go," Robin answered, a grin spreading across his face. If not for the still present danger he would surely have danced with joy. He had a daughter! He and _Lucina_ had a daughter!

**. . . . .**

"Looks like there's sixof them, not sure if we can get around them without backtracking," Robin whispered, ducking back behind the crumbling wall he and Morgan were hiding behind.

At some point a group of Risen must wandered into the route Robin had taken earlier, blocking the way back to the other Shepherds. They'd almost walked right into them too, the tactician noticing them just in time to pull himself and Morgan down before they could be spotted.

Inwardly Robin cursed himself for coming on his own. _It was stupid to assume the others would draw out every single Risen in the damn place._

"Do you know how to fight?" Robin asked, keeping his voice in a low whisper as he turned back to his time displaced daughter.

"I think so… yes, I remember now, you taught me how to use magic." Morgan dug through her coat, a moment passing before she produced an Arcfire tome with a triumphant _ah-ha. _

Robin nodded. "Right, stay behind me and I'll try to keep their attention."

"Got it," Morgan chimed, perhaps a bit too loudly for the circumstances.

Robin winced, expecting the Risen to charge them at any moment. Then he relaxed; clearly their foes having not heard his daughter's voice.

_We'll work on her stealth skills later._

Gripping his tome, Robin straightened to his full height, stretching a hand out to the nearest Risen.

"Thoron!"

The bolt smashed into the lead risen, throwing it back into one of the columns with a sickening crunch of shattering bones. Wasting no time Robin leapt out into the fray, charging the two remaining Risen before they could so much as turn to face him.

"Arcwind!"

A vortex struck the nearest undead, throwing it to the ground before it could react. Forgetting it for now, Robin whirled the face the Risen nearest to him as it lunged, sword bared.

Dodging a overhand slash, Robin drew his own sword and parried the next strike in a single fluid motion. Stepping in, he slammed his shoulder into the undead swordsman, throwing the thing off balance. He hacked at its leg, topping it over has his blade fore through muscle, the finished it with a stab through the throat.

"Arcfire!"

A gout of flame washed over the furthest Risen, setting its clothes and armor alight. The thing whirled around, its eyes smoldering with rage as it caught sight of Morgan. It only managed a single step before another tongue of fire put it down for good, disintegrating into foul black smoke as it was consumed.

Leaving Morgan to deal with the Risen he'd sent sprawling, Robin turned his attention to the remaining two.

Unlike the others, the two undead closed in at the same time, launching a series of simultaneous attacks that quickly put Robin of the defensive. Paring a flurry of blows from both Risen, the tactician fell back step by step, desperately searching for an opening. One presented itself when one of the Risen lunged out of sync with the the, giving him just enough time to batter it's weapon aside and thrust his palm against the thing's chest.

"Elthunder!"

The bolt of lightning sent the Risen staggering, Robin whirling away to deflect a blow from it's partner's blade. At that instant a crackling roar of fire filled the air, heat licking at the back of his neck as fire engulfed the he'd knocked away.

Good, Morgan had taken advantage of the opening just like he'd hoped. Focusing his attention on the remaining Risen now, Robin caught its sword in the V of his blade and crossguard, directing it down and away. In a blur of motion he whirled his blade around, severing the Risen's and before opening it up from sternum to hip with a single slash. The Risen shuddered once then vanished into nothingness.

"Father, look out!"

Whirling around, black leathery wings and gleaming teeth filled his vision. Instinct kicking in he ducked to the side just in time, a wall of black scales rushing past him with a roar of air. Something hard clipped his shoulder with a screech of steel, the impact throwing him onto his knees. Scrambling upright, he saw that his pauldron had been dented by the impact, a hairline crack running through the misshapen metal.

A roar filled the air, Robin spinning around in time to glimpse what had attacked him. A massive black wyvern wheeled around to come in for another attack, half again larger than any wyvern he'd ever seen. Its dead eyes smoldered like red hot coals, a mirror of those glinting in the helm of the Risen perched on its back.

Robin raised his hand as the wyvern dove forward towards him once more, electricity crackling in the air. "Thoron!" He cried as lightning split the air, striking the undead dragon with the force of cannon. Smoke curled from the thing's chest, its scales cracked a burnt from the spell. A shriek of pain from the risen wyvern's gullet, yet it did not slow, barreling towards him like an avalanche.

With not an instant to spare, Robin threw himself to the ground, his heart hammering in his chest. The space he'd stood a moment before exploding in a hail of pulverized stone as the wyvern barreled through a stone column. Pebbles and dust fell around him as he struggled to right himself, stinging and blurring his vision..

_Move, move, move!_ Claws dug deep gouges in the stone next to him, narrowly missing his head as he scrambled on his hands and knees. He tried to stand, only for the dragon to turn, its tail catching him in the chest, throwing him into the ground. His hand banged against the stone as he landed, tearing his sword from grasp, the blade clanging as it skidded out of reach.

_Pain. Pain. Lots of pain. Definitely pain._ He gasped for air, his breath forced from his lungs by the impact. _Yep, breathing bad. More pain. _

"Father!" Morgan shouted, her panicked voice sounding distant. Through blurred vision the wyvern loomed overhead, it's Risen rider hefting its ax for the finishing blow.

"Arcfire!"

For an instant the world erupted into a burst of burning light. The air around him heated up as a gout of flame hit the wyvern in its side, the creature roaring in pain. Ranger smoldering in its eyes, the wyvern whirled away from him, its attention focused on the person who'd come to his rescue.

Morgan stood a few feet away, her tome held out before her. Her eyes were wide, her shoulders heaving as if she'd just run several miles.

The risen stared at her, his glowing eyes flickering as it sat motionless on its mount. "...must… kill… future child," it rasped, inky smoke billowing from its mouth as it spoke.

Robin's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in shock. _Since when did Risen talk? And how does it know about Morgan?!_

Like a card being turned, Morgan's expression changed in an instant, eyes narrowing, her brow furrowing. "Well, I don't know anything about this whole future thing, but no way you're going to kill me or Father! Yeah, how does that sound you scaly, dragon riding bozo!"

"Morgan, what… are you… go… run," Robin rasped, each breath bringing fresh pain.

If she had heard him, Morgan showed no sign of doing as she'd been told. Instead staying rooted to the spot as she faced down risen and mount alike. The undead wyvern roared, the sound higher pitched than any living wyvern was capable, and leapt at the girl, wings flapping once to propel it forward. The Risen rider hefted its axe, adding a shrieking cry of its own to the fell notes of its steed. It closed in fast, taking but a second to reach the still motionless Morgan.

_What is she doing? She needs to move!_

Yet Morgan held her ground against the Wyvern lunging towards her with jaws open wide to swallow her whole.

Then he caught Morgan's smile.

"Arcfire!" Morgan bellowed, driving to one side as a torrent of fire erupted towards the risen's wyvern. The spell hit just before the beast could reach her, flame engulfing the thing's head. Blinded the wyvern staggered, its failed pounce throwing it off balance.

A perfectly judged roll brought Morgan right to Robin's fallen sword. At once the pieces fell into place: she hadn't been frozen with fear, nor had the timing of her attack been random. Every part of it was judged and calculated, both Morgan and her foe ending up in the exact spot she'd wanted.

Robin watched on in wonder as Morgan snatched up his blade, scrambling to her feet just in time to meet the wyvern as it whirled to face her. Throwing herself forward, Morgan passed under a swing of the rider's axe to slash at the wyvern's neck. Inky smoke spewing from the open wound. The undead dragon roared, swinging its hecd around, knocking Morgan to the ground. Then it was on her, teeth glinting as it went in for what would surely be a lethal blow on its stunned prey.

Only Morgan wasn't as dazed as it seemed, the girl rolling just in time, the wyvern's teeth clipping the stone floor. With a yelp, Morgan thrust her blade up into the underside of the wyvern's jaw and up into its skull.

Everything stopped, the world becoming so still that it seemed as though time itself had ground to a halt. Then the wyvern convulsed once, then collapsed. Even as the mount evaporated into a cloud of sickly purple mist, the rider scrambled out of its saddle, shambling to face the girl who'd slain its wyvern.

Morgan too had scrambled to her feet, managing to put some distance between herself and the Risen.

"Must… kill….future… child… kill… kill…," the Risen rasped, repeating its words from before. Hefting its axe, the undead monstrosity charged, its clumsy movements betraying its preternatural speed.

For an instant fear flickered in Morgan's eyes, only to vanish as her expression hardened. Her stance shifted as she held her ground, bringing both hands up to her right tip of her sword pointing at a forty-five degree angle towards the ground.

_Her stance, it's just like Lucina's._ There was no mistaking it, Robin had seen the princess use the same defensive stance countless times in battle.

Cleanly sidestepping the overhead axe swing, Morgan shifted her wing-block left, shunting the her opponent's weapon wide. Guiding the hilt with her right hand, she brought the blade down in a tight, circular arc. There was a clang and the Risen's axe fell away in two pieces, the haft cleanly severed by the blow.

Dropping low into a crouch, Morgan pivoted to face her foe, eyes burning with a determined fury. "Checkmate" Morgan shouted as she lashed out, adding her own momentum to the attack as she as she snapped to her full height once more. It was then, in the instant before her blow landed, that her sword seemed to erupt with golden light. With a hiss like fire being cast into a pool of water, she slashed through her foe's chestplate, smoke billowing from the rent metal. The risen staggered back, shrieking in agony as its flesh sizzled and popped where it had been touched by the cleansing, divine light. However, Morgan wasn't yet done. Bringing her blade around in a single, fluid motion, she stepped alongside then past the risen, her blade passing right through the spot her foe.

More a moment no one move, then with a hiss the Risen fell apart, falling into two clean pieces that evaporated into smoke before they could hit the ground.

Robin stared at the spot the Risen had stood moments before, too shocked to even this. The technique Morgan had just used was Aether! The only ones Robin had ever seen use it were members of the exalted bloodline: Lucina, her father, and her sister. If additional proof was needed there could be no denying it now: Morgan was Lucina's daughter.

"Father, are you alright?" Morgan gasped, rushing to his side. She let his sword drop as she knelt down besides him.

"Yeah, just hurts… a lot." He laughed painfully, wincing with the movements. With effort he propped himself up from the ground, clutching at his side as the pair burned with redoubled intensity. "Couple broken ribs, nothing a healer can't fix."

"Wait, hold on, I think…" Morgan began patting her coat pockets, searching for something. At last she stopped, her expression brightening as she fished out a half-empty vulnerary. "Here, father, drink up," she said, unstopping the cork and offering the vial to him.

"Thanks," murmured, downing what was left of the foul tasting potion. A cold chill suffused his side for a moment, then faded along with the majority of the pain, leaving nothing more than a dull ache. "I'm impressed, you handled yourself well out there kiddo. Who taught you to wield a sword like that?" Robin asked, heaving himself upright. While the similarities to Lucina's fighting style left him with no doubt as to the identity of Morgan's teacher, it was best to fish for more information while he could. Perhaps it would trigger more memories.

"Huh, well I…" Morgan froze, her brow furrowing. "I… don't remember. I can't even remember learning to do any of that, it just… sorta came to me."

Robin nodded. "I experienced much the same thing the first time I went into battle after losing my memories. Even if you can't remember it, what you were taught has been so deeply ingrained you still retrained your muscle memory."

"I guess that makes sense, I just wish I could remember... " Morgan frowned, her gaze pensive as she gazed down at her hands.

The sound of distant voice could now be heard, drawing closer. Turning, Robin could just make out the other Shepherds in the distance, making their way to where he and Morgan now stood.

"Well, kiddo, it looks like its time to introduce you to the others," Robin said, turning back to Morgan. He smiled, unable to contain himself at the thought of breaking the good news to Lucina. _We have a daughter!_ He froze then, his smile fading as a sudden, horrible thought occurred to him.

_Oh gods, how am I going to explain this to Chrom?_

* * *

**Author's Note: **Alright guys, there's the first part of my little retelling of how Robin and Lucina first met Morgan. The next part will be in Lucina's point of view and will tackle her reaction to her future paradoxical offspring as well as the immediate aftermath of Morgan's introduction. For those of you who have read _A Future Disowned_, I am curious to see if you guys noticed the little hints I've sown into this chapter (with more to come in the second part) to retroactively foreshadow Morgan's backstory as revealed in that story.

Following the second part of Morgan's recruitment I intend to write another Robcina full one-shot before tackling a miniarc I have been planning for some time. This 3-5 chapter story will focus on (_**SPOILERS**_ for _A Future Disowned_ ) Marc and him dealing with the events of that fanfic and to purify his corrupted Parallel Falchion.


	16. Child of Time - Part 2

**Title:** Child of Time - Part 2

**Description:** Lucina had never expected to find love after traveling to the past. Even now, her relationship with Robin still managed to be full of surprises. It just so happens today brought the biggest surprise of all.

**Notes: **Part 2 of my retelling of Morgan's recruitment chapter. Mild hints to _Future Disowned._

* * *

Lucina smiled, relieved to see Robin in the ruins just ahead. After she and the others had heard the fighting further into the ruins she'd feared a group of Risen had managed to slip through their net and ambush the lone tactician. Thankfully it seemed that whether she managed to arrive in time or not proved to be an non-issue, the Risen having already been dealt with. Even so, a part of her was still furious that he'd insisted on going off alone. She'd never could have forgiven herself if he'd died because she wasn't there to help him.

Breaking away from the others, Lucina jogged over to where the tactician stood. It was only as she approached that picked out a second figure standing next to him.

_It must be the girl we saw earlier. Good, it looks as though Robin managed to reach her before the Risen could. _

"Lucina," Robin called out to her, waving to her as she crossed the remaining distance. Grinning, he stepped forward to meet her, placing a hand on her arm affectionately.

"Are you alright? I heard the fighting and I thought you might have…" Lucina trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

"I'm fine, Lucina. I can handle myself. Besides, I did have a little help," he said, drawing her attention to girl who ducked behind Robin at the sudden attention. She gripped the back of his coat, wadding the fabric between her fingers. Only after a moment did she slowly peek her head out, staring back at Lucina with wide eyes.

"Robin who is…" Lucina started to say. She stopped, frowning as she looked between the tactician and the girl. She was young, perhaps around Cynthia's age, with dark blue hair and big childlike eyes. However, what struck her was the girl's garments, identical in every way to those Robin wore. Even her coat was a perfect replica, if not as old or worn as the tactician's own. _Where did she…_

Robin must have caught the confusion on her face, as he stepped forward then, "Lucina, I'd like you to meet Morgan. Apparently…" he paused, waving a hand in girl's, Morgan's, direction before continuing, "... she's my daughter..."

"What?" Lucina explained, her eyes widening. "B-But, you didn't have a daughter in my time. Nor do I recall meeting her before, let alone her accompanying me when I traveled to this time…" Even as she spoke, Lucina could not deny the resemblance. So similar in appearance was Morgan that it seemed as if an artist had taken Robin's features and reshaped them into something both more childlike and feminine than his own.

Lucina shook her head, continuing. "Nor were you ever close with anyone in my time. How, then, is this even…" Lucina froze, only then noting that the shade of the girl's unkempt mop of hair was the very same shade of blue as her own. Her eyes too were the same, crystalline azure pools that seemed to sparkle with their own light.

But most telling of all, Robin had a smile on his face.

"No…. you don't mean… How is this… You mean to say she's..." Lucina breathed, her heart rate quickening. A thousand confused thoughts tore through her, moving with such haste that she couldn't so much as latch onto one before another battered it aside. How could this girl be her's? Did she fail? Did she come back the correct a future as bleak as her own? What if-

Gentle hands wrapped around her own, Robin prompting her to look into his eyes. At once the maelstrom of her thoughts seemed to break, replaced by a soothing calm like the gentle breeze following a storm. It was always like this with Robin, when he was close to her it felt as though everything would be alright.

"I'm sure of it. I don't know how she came here, but I know she is," Robin said, sounding as breathless as she. "She doesn't remember much, just a handful of memories about me. But…. you should have seen her out there, Lucina. The way she wielded a sword, it was just like you. She can use Aether! I almost thought the Risen she used it against looked afraid when-"

"Father, what's going on? I don't…" Morgan interrupted. She looked between the two of them, a perplexed look, so very 'Robin-like' in its appearance, plastered on her face.

Letting go of her hands, Robin turned, kneeling down at Morgan's side. "Morgan, may I see your right hand for a moment?" He asked.

Morgan opened her mouth as if to argue, only to shut it again and nod slowly. The girl extended her arm to her father, the sleeve of her too-big coat covering all but the tips of her fingers. Gently Robin took her hand, pulling back the sleeve to reveal the skin underneath

Lucina gasped.

On the back of Morgan's hand was the Brand of the Exalt.

Morgan looked from the mark to each of them in turn, her expression quizzical. "What is it? What does it mean?" Her gaze flicked between the two of them expectantly.

"Its the called Brand of the Exalt," Robin answered, his hand still gripping Morgan's "It means…"

"It means you are of the Exalted bloodline, the royal house of Ylisse," Lucina finished for him. Kneeling down, she gently wrapped her fingers around Morgan's hand. Slowly she moved it up to her face, just under her left eye. "Look closely."

For a long moment Morgan stared blankly at Lucina's face, seeming unsure what she was looking for. Then her eyes widened, her mouth falling half open as she stared on in wonder. "Y-You have the same mark… and that means… Mother!"

In an instant Morgan's arms were around her, squeezing her in a hug so tight that Lucina's breath was forced from her lungs. For a single, startled moment she didn't know how to react. The girl was practically a stranger, someone she barely knew. Yet… something deep inside her, perhaps instinct, told her to embrace the girl.

_Her daughter._

Right then she wasn't quite sure what to think. She certainly hadn't expected to become a mother, at least not any time in the near future. Even after entering her relationship with Robin the possibility of children hadn't ever been considered. Not when saving the world took precedence. Nor did she know the first thing of being a parent. All she knew was that right now she just wanted to hold the girl tight and keep her safe.

"Mother," Morgan murmured, nuzzling closer against Lucina. "… when I woke up I couldn't remember you and… and..." Lucina realised tears were glistening in Morgan's eyes, a small sound somewhere between a hiccup and a sob falling from her lips.

"Why are you crying? D-Did I do something wrong?" Lucina asked, concern welling in her throat.

"Huh" Morgan blinked, unwrapped one arm from Lucina to touch her face. "I don't… I don't know why I'm… I just…" She frowned, her expression once again growing perplexed. "I just feel like… l really wanted this. To see you. I was so scared when I couldn't remember you, Mother, I was afraid you'd left me." She sniffed, wiping her eyes.

Slowly she let go of Lucina, her expression brightening as she laughed. "But I guess you're here now, mother, so I have nothing to worry about. I'm sure I'll remember you in no time too, I just need to try hard enough!"

_She seems to have Robin's knack for positivity, I'll give her that._ Lucina nodded, letting Morgan know she agreed with her assessment. Besides that she was not sure what to do, being a mother wasn't something she'd experienced before and still seemed to an completely foreign concept. _Gods… I'm a mother..._

"So, Morgan, you ready to go meet the others?" Robin asked, extending a hand to each of them, helping the two to their feet.

"You betcha! Come on, what are we waiting for!" Morgan beamed, turning around without even waiting for them before making a beeline for where the other Shepherds were gather some distance away.

"Well, she's certainly not lacking energy," Robin said, his expression almost bewildered as he stared after her daughter.

"Perhaps we should go after her… b-before she says something to cause a stir with t-the others," Lucina stuttered, her brain still struggling to catch up with everything that had been thrown at her.

"Yeah, that's a really good idea," Robin said. Exchanging worried looks, the two bolted after Morgan as fast as they could. In their haste they nearly smashed head first into Chrom and Sumia, who'd broken away from the others to meet them. Skidding to a halt, they moved in front of Morgan, gasping and choking for breath.

"What's gotten into you two? Did something happen?" Chrom asked, arching an eyebrow at the wheezing couple.

Lucina opened her mouth to answer, only for Morgan to brush past before she had a chance.

"Hi!" Morgan chimed. The girl grinned from ear to ear, waving to Lucina's parents in greeting.

"Lucina, who's this?" Her mother asked, glancing to her before returning her gaze to Morgan. "And why does she have a coat just like Robin's?"

"Well, you see..." Lucina bit her lip, struggling to find the right words. _Gods, why was it this so hard?_ "Mother, Father, this is Morgan... she's… well she's…"

"Your father and mother?" Morgan questioned, glancing between Lucina's parents for a moment before a grin erupted across her face. "Grandpa! Grandma!" Lunging forward, the girl wrapped her arms around the two shocked royals. For a moment neither of them moved, their expression bewildered as they processed what had just happened.

"I… what…?" Her father stammered. It took another moment before Lucina saw the gears begin to turn, his eyes seeming to linger on Morgan's hair and coat. Then realization dawned on his face. "Robin. Explain. Now…"

"Heh, well you see… she'd kinda…" Bullets of sweat rolled down Robin's face, his expression terrified as he stared back at Lucina's father. Gulping audibly, he tugged on the collar of his shirt, struggling to form an answer. "...our daughter…" He finally managed, those final words escaping in a terrified squeak, cringing away from the Exalt.

Despite the situation, Lucina could help but smile, seeing the tactician dissolve into a panicked mess somehow seeming rather endearing. For all his apparent confidence on the battlefield, it was this side of him when he got flustered that she found rather adorable.

There was another moment of stunned silence, her parents once again taking a moment to process what had been said. For her part, her mother's expression slowly lit up, a smile tugging at her lips. For her father's part, well...

"Robin…" Her father's eyes narrowed, staring down the tactician with barely contained fury. Wriggling free of Morgan's grip, his hand inched toward Falchion hilt. "Is my daughter pregnant?"

"What!? No!" Lucina shouted in unison with Robin, eyes wide. "I mean I don't… that is to say… we haven't exactly… yet…" She trailed off lamely, she and Robin exchanging an embarrassed look. The tactician's face was red and she was sure her's was not much different.

Her father nodded slowly, seeming to accept this answer. However, his hand remained dangerously close to Falchion's hilt. He may have accepted her and Robin's relationship, but discovering he was a grandfather at his age must not be as easy an idea to swallow. "Explain… now."

"W-We don't even know how she got here, she just showed up from what we can tell," Robin stammered. "Morgan lost most of her memories so we don't really…"

As situations go, things probably couldn't have gotten much more awkward. Blissfully Lucina's mother stepped in to diffusing the situation before things could get anymore out-of-hand. "Chrom, honestly, give the two of them a break. I'm sure they didn't mean to make us grandparents this soon," Sumia said. She grinned, clasping her hands together and hopping up and down excitedly. "I just realised, I get to be a grandmother without needing to wait until I'm all old and wrinkly. How great is this!"

Lucina could only stare, her face burning yet again as her mother continued to bounce… and was that a squee? _She couldn't possibly be… nope, mother is definity squeeing. _She covered her face with her hands. So much for making things less embarrassing.

"Its feeling old now that I'm worried about," Chrom groaned, shaking his head. "And here I thought my life had reached its peak weirdness when my best friend began dating my future daughter."

"Wait… Grandfather is Father's best friend? That _is_ really weird. I can totally see why he'd be upset, father," Morgan interjected, grinning.

"Not helping, Morgan!" Robin exclaimed, quickly pulling the girl away before she could do any more harm. "ChromI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorrypleasedon'tkillme." Robin continued to babble, he words becoming more incoherent with the passing second, keeping Morgan between himself and the Exalt as he retreated.

"Oh no you don't, get back here!" Chrom shouted, starting after the fleeing tactician.

"Mother..." Lucina said, staring blankly after Robin and her father. "Perhaps we should return to camp before either of them get hurt."

"At least before Robin tries to use Morgan as a human shield." Her mother sighed. "And here I just wanted to get to know my granddaughter without your father freaking out. I'm married to a child."

"Robin does not seem to be acting much better, I'm afraid," Lucina nodded, watching as Robin attempted to lose her father amongst a collapsed section of the ruins. She pressed her hands against her forehead, struggling to make sense of everything that had happened that day.

How had coming to the past become so complicated?

**. . . . .**

Lucina looked on as Morgan shoveled food down her throat with almost reckless abandon, already into her third bowl of stew.

It seemed an almost endless appetite was a trait the girl shared with her father, whom had already started on his fourth helping with the same fervor Morgan had displayed. Between the two of them it was a miracle that there was anything left for the others to eat.

Lucina felt her smile fade, dismay taking hold of her as she watched the two go. Morgan and Robin seemed to have hit things off immediately, having spent the entire meal so far discussing tactics between mouthfuls. Other than a brief conversation with Morgan on their way back to camp, she hard hardly exchanged so much as a handful words with the girl.

Not that it had been any fault of Morgan's. No, her future daughter had attempted to speak to her several times. It was her that found herself held back, hesitance gripping hold of her each time she looked upon the girl. What if she messed things up and upset her? What if she got in the way of Morgan's already building relationship with her father?

_Gods, I'm hopeless. I can't even face my own daughter without freezing up. _Lucina cast her gaze downward. _I don't know a thing about being a parent. What am I supposed to do now? _

"Lucina?"

The question caught her by surprise. Tilting her head up she saw that Robin's gaze was upon her now, looking on her with evident concern, having apparently noticed her discomfort.

Lucina opened her mouth, preparing some excuse for her behavior and tell him he need not worry about her. Then she sighed. No, something was the matter, and avoiding it wouldn't help matters. It was better if Robin understood than just letting her worry fester. "Robin, may I speak with you for a moment?" Lucina asked, keeping her gaze down.

For a long time Robin said nothing, his eyes fixed on her as if trying to get a fix on what was the matter. Then, slowly he nodded, stacking his mostly empty bowl on top of those he'd already cleaned out and rising to his feet.

Standing as well, Lucina turned to go, only to notice Morgan's gaze on her and Robin now. She looked… worried, as if she'd done something wrong to cause both her parents to suddenly wish to leave. Coming to a complete stop, Lucina stood motionless, unsure what to say or do to put the girl's concern at ease, to tell her that nothing was the matter. Gods, how was a parent supposed to act in this situation?

Thankfully, Robin spoke up then, answering for her. "We'll be back in a minute, kiddo. Why not go talk to your grandparents until we get back?"

"Oh, okay. That sound like a great idea, Father!" Morgan beamed, her expression changing so quickly that Lucina could scarcely register it. Hopping up off of her log, Morgan scurried over to to where Lucina's parents sat at the other side of the large bonfire.

Watching after the girl for another moment, Lucina slowly turned away, she and Robin moving several paces away from the gathering so they could speak out of earshot.

"Is something the matter? You barely spoke the entire meal," Robin asked, worry flickering in his warm brown eyes as he looked at her.

"Yes, I just…" Lucina averted her gaze, unsure how to best put her thoughts into words. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold bite of the winter air. "I don't know the first thing about being a mother, Robin. What if I screw up? What if I hurt Morgan because I can't-"

"Lucina," Robin said, gripping her shoulders gently, forcing her to look at him. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of the tactician's lips, his eyes glinting with laughter. "That's all this is about? Gods, and I thought I was the only one panicking over this."

"You… what? But… you looked so calm and… well, natural with all of this," Lucina sputtered, eyes widening.

"I wouldn't be a very good tactician if I couldn't conceal my worries in the face of uncertainty," Robin replied, a nervous laugh falling from his throat. "Honestly, I don't have the faintest idea how this whole parenting thing works. I've just been winging it and hoping I didn't mess up too badly. But I doubt your parents were any more prepared when you showed up, or any of the others for that matter, so I figured that if they could figure it out so could I." His smile faltered then, his expression becoming somber. "I was worried you'd started to have doubts about... well, us. That with Morgan showing up you'd realised this was all a big mistake and-"

"No! Gods, no, I don't want that," Lucina shouted, cutting him off before he could finish. "I wasn't thinking that at all, Robin. If anything you should be the one having second thoughts right now. Morgan can remember you, but can't recall anything about myself. I must of been the worst mother in the world, for her to forget everything about me…"

"Lucina… don't say that. I know you, and I know you must have been a wonderful mother in Morgan's timeline," Robin assured her, reaching out to gently stroke her hair as he continued. "For one thing the fact that she fights just like you means that future you must had to have spent a lot of time teaching her swordplay. And even then, I've already seen you acting like a mother should. When Morgan broke down and embraced you, you held her right back and comforted her just like a mother should. You're going to be a wonderful mother Lucina, I know you will be…"

Lucina opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, words failing her as she stared back at Robin, her version blurring a bit. "Robin… with Morgan here now… what does that mean for us and the future? What if we failed? What if things didn't…"

"And if they did, then we can make sure they don't happen here," Robin assured her. "It doesn't matter how many times things have repeated before now, whether its once or a hundred, I made a promise that I'd see your future is a happy one, didn't I? I'd be a worthless tactician if I couldn't follow through on my word." Robin smiled. "I can't say I know what this will mean for the two of us, but I do know we'll figure it out together. Just like we'll figure out this whole parenting thing. It can't be too hard, right?"

"I suppose you are right. After all this work to save the world, raising a child should be simple." Lucina laughed. She smiled back at him, a weight seeming to lift from her. "Thank you, Robin. I feel relieved to know I am not alone in this."

"Don't mention it." Robin chuckled. Turning back to the bonfire, he extended a hand to her. "Shall we get back to unraveling the mysteries of parenthood?"

"Let's." Taking his hand, the two of them returned to the campfire gathering. As they approached, Lucina caught a sight of movement as Morgan hurried over to meet them upon noticing her parent's return.

"How was your chat with your Grandparents, kiddo?" Robin asked Morgan.

"It was great. Though Grandpa-Chrom said not to call him that, because it made him feel really really old. Grandma-Sumia seemed to like it though!" Morgan beamed. "She said the next time we pass a village that she would take us shopping, Mother! I kinda need clothes, since this is all I got." She tugged at her tunic and coat to highlight her point. Morgan seemed to freeze then, acting as one who'd just realised they'd said something they shouldn't have. "I mean, that is, as long as you want to. Its okay if you don't, I'd understand…" Morgan cast her gaze downward away from Lucina, rubbing her arm nervously.

Guilt filled Lucina. She'd been so worried about messing up that she hadn't even considered how avoiding contact with Morgan would seem as good as rejecting the girl. Here she was, so afraid of being a terrible mother that she'd ended up acting like one without meaning to.

"Morgan, I'd love that more than anything," Lucina assured the girl, a gentle smile on her lips.

Slowly Morgan looked up, staring at Lucina with big, wide eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Lucina answered. "Morgan, I'd like to apologies to you. I'm still getting use to the idea of being a parent, and I was so afraid of messing up that I had begun to avoid you. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Awww, Mom," Morgan threw her arms around Lucina's waist, hugging her. "I'm sorry too, I guess I didn't really consider how weird this must be for you too, huh?"

"Even, so it doesn't excuse my behavior," Lucina said, returning the hug. "Perhaps we should start over. Whatever you want to talk about, I'll listen, deal?"

"Deal!" Morgan laughed, letting go of Lucina's waist only to grab hold of her arm, pulling her towards the bonfire. "Come on mother, what are you waiting for. We have a whole lot of stuff to talk about, time's wasting!"

The next few hours passed quickly, time being lost as the three of them talked amongst themselves. Morgan proved to be an endless fountain of questions, much of them aimed at Lucina herself. The girl wanting to know everything she could to fill in the holes of her memories regarding her parents. She hung on every little detail, from stories about their past, to the little things like their favorite foods. In particular Morgan seemed enthralled by stories of Lucina's adventures after traveling to the past and meeting Robin.

It was only as the bonfire began to die down that it became apparent just how much time had passed. Morgan yawned as she shifted in Lucina's lap, her eyelids drooping on the edge of sleep.

"I think someone needs to get to bed," Robin noted smiling at the girl wrapped in Lucina's arms.

"I'm alright, Father, I want to keep talking and… stuff…" Morgan yawned again, her speech slurred with the onset of sleep.

"Lucina, why don't you take Morgan back to your tent tonight." Robin asked, standing up from the log. "I still need to meet with your father and discuss our plans for tomorrow,"

Nodding, Lucina stood, picking up Morgan as she did so. "Come on, you heard your father, it's time for bed."

This time Morgan didn't argue, nodding drowsily as she wrapped her arms around Lucina's shoulders to help keep from slipping. Making her way through camp, Lucina walked in silence, her pace slow with her daughter's added weight. In was only after several minutes had passed that Morgan spoke up again.

"Mother… do you think we could… practice… practice swordplay tomorrow? … Grandmother said you'd love to…"

"Of course I would. We'll do that first thing tomorrow," Lucina promised. Reaching her tent, Lucina pulled back the flap and stepped inside. Setting Morgan down on the simple cot that had been placed inside, she helped Morgan out of her coat, draping the garment over the back of her chair. By the time she turned back Morgan had already curled up onto the bed, her eyes with a peaceful expression on her face.

"Sweet dream, Morgan," Lucina whispered, tucking the covers up over the girl's shoulders. Morgan shifted slightly, but made no other sign of having heard her, already fast asleep.

Turning away, Lucina set about preparing herself for rest. Removing her her cloak and boots, she stripped down to her tunic and pants, folding the removed outer layers of her garments before setting them aside.

Kneeling, she dug under her cot for the extra blankets she kept there, before taking up residence in the chair at Morgan's bedside.

"_You… to me long ago..."_

Lucina started at the sudden voice. A second passed before she realised it had been Morgan who'd spoke. Gazing down to find her eyes still closed, her chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic cadence

_She must be dreaming_, Lucina thought, gently brushing a stray hair from Morgan's face. _I wonder what you're dreaming about. I wonder if you see your forgotten future… if so I hope those memories aren't as painful as mine._

With this very though Morgan seemed to stir slightly, shifting under the covers." _...don't understand... is it..." _Morgan's brown knitted as she continued to mutter, her once peaceful expression troubled by whatever haunted her dreams. "_...I can't… can't keep… ... almost forgotten... …Mother…" _Her lip trembled, twisting into a grimace.

"Shh, shh, its okay," Lucina whispered, placing a hand on Morgan's forehead. The girl tensed at her touch, then relaxed. Stroking her hair, Lucina watched as Morgan's expression became serene once more.

"I'm here now, and as long as I am I won't let anything hurt you," Lucina promised, her daughter.

_Her daughter._

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, here ends my take on Morgan's recruitment mission. I am curious to see if you picked up my nods to _Future Disowned i_n this chapter.

Also, come on guys: 98 favorites but only 52 reviews? I know you guys can do better than that. Seriously, you have no idea how much your feedback helps me improve as a writer and motivate me to keep writing.


	17. Beach

**Title: **Beach

**Description: **After twenty minutes Robin began to worry something was the matter. Why hadn't Lucina left the changing room yet? Could she… could she be embarrassed?

**Notes: **Takes place during the Summer Scramble DLC

* * *

"Lucina, are right alright in there?" Robin called into the woman's changing room. He was careful to keep his head angled away from the doorway, lest he unintentionally gaze inside, cupping his hand to the side of his face to direct his voice inside. "It's been twenty minutes, aren't you going to come out?"

"I-I'm not sure if that's the best idea," his fiancé stammered, her voice echoing from deep inside inside. He wasn't quite sure how far back she was, though the building was little more the small hut at the sand's edge, so it couldn't be too far.

"Why? Is something the matter?" Robin asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Its just… I haven't ever worn something this… revealing…" Lucina answered haltingly. Her tone at once brought images of the princess adorably clutching a beach towel over herself, her face red with embarrassment. So vivid was this imagined sight that for an instant Robin found himself taken by a sudden urge to peek inside. Only with an effort off will did he command his body to stay put, his own face burning now.

"A-Are you embarrassed?" Robin asked, stifling a nervous laugh.

"No… well… yes, but… what if the others stare?" Lucina said, seeming to struggle to find words through her nervous babble.

"No one will stare, Lucina. And if they do, it'll because of how stunning you are, not because of some swimsuit," Robin answered. "Besides, I can't imagine the what Anna gave you is anywhere as skimpy as the one she gave Tharja."

"She what?!" Lucina exclaimed, her tone changing from embarrassment to indignant in an instant. "And you saw her?!"

"Unfortunately," Robin sighed. "She even tried to get me apply oil to her… well, her skin and… all the while dressed like that and…" Robin trained off, fidgeting nervously. "I-I declined her request of c-course. I just wish she'd stop trying to make advances on me, I-It's starting to get unnerving."

For a long moment Lucina said nothing. When she finally spoke Robin had to struggle to make her out, the princess' voice almost a grumble. "Of course she did, that… I bet she looked great too, with her body wear something like… like…"

_Wait, is she jealous? _Robin wondered. Lucina had never showed signs of being jealous of any of the other Shepherds before now.. Then again, if she had been been Robin felt sure she would have kept the feeling private, not wanding to concern others with her own problems.

"Tharja may have great… well, how did Nowi put it? 'Boingy bits'? But she doesn't even come close to comparing with you. You're perfect Lucina, and I wouldn't want to change anything about you," Robin said. Falling silent, he fiddled with his thumb. "Though if you're embarrassed, it's okay if you want to change. By which I mean out the bathing suit, change out of the bathing suit!" He corrected quickly. "You don't have to prove anything to me, you know. Though if it's any consolation, you're the only woman I'd gladly oil up."

Robin froze, his face flushed so red he was positive it's glow might have outclassed the summer sun overhead. "W-wow, that sounded way dirtier than it did in my head. I'm sorry, Lucina, I didn't mean… I'll just let you change and-"

"No, its alright. I know what you mean, and I appreciate the thought." Lucina giggled. The nervousness seemed nearly gone from her voice.

With a sound of bare feet stepped across a wooden floor, Lucina crossed the length of the changing room. She stopped before the entrance, then with a sharp intake of break brushed the curtain aside and stepped into view.

For a moment Robin's brain stopped working, unable to do anything but stare at his fiancé. The bathing suit Anna had chosen for her was suitably tasteful, free of the thin laces that had adorned Tharja's. It was a deep blue, as if someone had mixed the sky and the sea together. The garment fitted her body perfectly, accenting the gentle curves of her lithe, toned body. Her azure hair fell like a waterfall over her shoulders, its always stunning hue a symphony with that of the suit.

She looked beautiful. Simply beautiful.

"I… um… y-you look… wow," Robin managed at last, the inside of his mouth suddenly bone dry. "You're beautiful, Lucina."

For a moment Lucina seemed taken aback by his compliment, her eyes widening and cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink. Then she smiled. "Thank you, Robin, that means… that means the world to me coming from you." Leaning forward, she planted a kiss on his cheek.

If his face hasn't been glowing before, he was sure it had to be now, his skin feeling almost as though it was on fire. "Bwuh?" It took a moment before he could his brain sluggishly started up again. "I…. um… d-don't mention it," Robin stammered.

"I have to say, you don't look bad yourself," Lucina continued, giggling as it became his turn to be the one overcome with embarrassment. He could practically feel her gaze dragging across his bare chest. He gulped audibly, for an instant feeling very exposed. Then he forced with an effort of will he forced his discomfort aside. He could do this, he wasn't scared to be intimate around Lucina. Honest, he wasn't scared. Just absolutely terrified.

"Thanks… I-I'm glad you t-think t-that," Robin stuttered. _Smooth, Robin, real smooth. Master tactician indeed._

"Robin? I'm still a bit nervous, going out into the open like this," Lucina said, speaking up after a moment's pause. She gazed down at her garments, blushing again. "You'll be right there with me, won't you?"

"I… Of course I will," Robin answered. Reaching out, he took her hand in his, smiling gently to her.

Lucina smiled back. Then, hand in hand, they stepped out onto the beach to join the others.

**. . . . .**

Lucina yawned softly at his side, cuddling closer to his side as they watched the sun slowly sink over the horizon. The once crystal blue water now glowed with a fiery, golden light, edged with the crimson orange and rose red hues that lit up the sunset sky.

After facing some mutual nervousness, the day had been absolutely magical, filling with fun and laughter. Everyone there had seemed to have enjoyed themselves, the whole gang able to for a time forget the war and fighting to simply relax. It had indeed been a much needed vacation.

Robin found himself yawning too. Who knew, as it turned out, that vacations could be just as tiring as work?

"Its so beautiful," Lucina murmured. Her eyes glistened as she stared into the sunset. "So calm and peaceful… I wish it could always be like this…"

"I know…" Robin agreed softly. It was indeed beautiful. The most beautiful sunset he'd ever seen. "That's why, I think, what we're doing is so important. We're fighting to make sure it will always be like this. That's what I believe anyways." Squeezing her shoulders tighter, Robin bent his head low, kissing her on the top of her head. "When this is over, we should come back here. Just the two of us. Well… maybe Morgan too. She'd probably sneak along if we didn't bring here."

"Do you really think we'll get that chance?" Lucina asked.

"Of course we will," Robin answered. "I promised I'd spend the rest of my life with you, Lucina. And everything after too! I'm not about to break that promise."

"Good. I'm glad…" Lucina leaned her head against his shoulder, humming contently as she nuzzled as close to his side as possible.

The sun had completely sunken beneath the horizon by the time the two left the spot, returning to the tents the others had set up to spend the night. Tomorrow they would return to their world, to the war and the fighting and death. But for now they would enjoy the peace as long as they were able, under a star filled sky.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Wow, I can't believe how many reviews I got on the last chapter. Thank you so much everyone for all your feedback, it means so much to me. Honestly, whenever I don't feel motivated to keep going, it's being reminded that there are people out there enjoying my work that keeps me going. I can't put it into words just how much it I appreciate it.

As promised the next chapter is going to be a mini-arc set a month after the events of _A Future Disowned,_ and will involve spoilers for obvious reasons. If you haven't read _A Future Disowned_, I highly encourage you to give it a read and perhaps even leave a review, as otherwise the next few chapters won't make too much sense. Anyhow, until then, take care everyone.


	18. A Future Undone - Part 1

**Title:** A Future Undone - Part 1

**Description: **A month has passed since the Shepherds' adventures in the alternate timeline Naga had sent them to and the revelations of Morgan's own future-past and the existence of her twin brother, Marc. Having returned with them, Marc has attempted to try his best to grow accustomed to his new life and recover from the horrors he experienced as one of Grima's servants. But when his Falchion, the same Falchion corrupted by the Fell Dragon's magic, begins to behave erratically Marc must set off on a new quest to purify the blade and face the ghosts of his past.

**Note:** Takes place one month following the events of _A Future Disowned_. _**Spoiler Warning**_, if you have not read _A Future Disowned_ and wish to avoid spoilers for that story, turn back now.

* * *

"Gah!"

Marc staggered back as step, his shoulder aching where the first projectile at struck him. Before he he could right himself another slammed into chest, winding him. Flitching away, he shielded himself with his arms as barrage of thrown missiles continued. Thigh. Forearm. Other arm, yeah, that one was going to bruise. Wincing with each hit, he could do little as the final ball slipped between his arms, striking him in the forehead dead center. Stars flashed before his vision, then, well, the next thing he remembered was staring up at the sky as he lay in the dirt.

"Oooouch… Yeah, that one probably hurt…. My bad," his sister's voice cut through the cloud of aching pain. If he didn't know better, he'd have suspected she was actually proud of herself. But, in this case he _did_ know better… she was totally proud of herself.

"You okay?" His father's face entered his vision, looking down at him with obvious concern. Suddenly the scene before him changed, so that for but an instant it seemed as though a second figure had been superimposed over his father. Eyes like embers glinted from the depths of a shadowed hood, lips curled back in a sneer. Marc flinched, eyes wide. Then as quickly as the the vision had appeared the world snapped back into focus. Where had been a sneer was once again a gentle smile, his father extending a hand to him in a gesture Grima had never given him.

"I'm… I'm fine, just need to walk if off." Taking the offered hand to support himself, Marc sat upright, rubbing his stinging forehead with his free hand. All around him lay a dozen or more small leather bags that served as projectiles during this sort of training. Each was filled to the brim with sand, lending them enough weight to be easily thrown while still posing little risk of inflicting more than some minor bruises.

"Are we sure this is exactly the best way to help train his reflexes?" his mother asked. Turning his head as she spoke, Marc spied his mother standing at the edge of the courtyard, regarding the scene with an almost dubius expression. Today his mother wore her customary battle attire, though she'd removed her armor at some point following their light sparring at the beginning of the training session. This of course, had been a precaution she'd taken during practice ever since he'd returned with them to this timeline. Afterall, she _was _three months pregnant with his and Morgan's younger selves

A smile tugged at Marc's lips. After everything he'd been through, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of joy knowing that the him of this time would grow up in a world more peaceful than his own.

"Don't look at me, Morgan was the one who came up with this idea back when I was teaching her defensive magic. While getting hit by these can be a bit unpleasant, especially when someone keeps aiming for the head," his father shot Morgan a glare. who merely whistled cheerfully in a thinly veiled attempt to appear as though she hadn't heard his remark. Rolling his eyes, the tactician knelt down to pick up the practice projectiles. "Besides, pain can be excellent motivator."

"You mean the same Morgan who spent an afternoon hitting her head against a wall in an attempt to regain her memories?" His mother countered. "I'm not entirely convinced Morgan even feels pain half of the time."

His father opened his mouth as if to argue, then promptly shut it again. "That… is a very good point." He turned his gaze to Marc, concern renewed on his face. "Are you sure you want to continue? We can stop if you'd like."

"No. No, I can manage," Marc added quickly, forcing a smile. He couldn't back down now, besides, what was a little pain anyways?

Helping his his father retrieve the last few sand filled pouches, Marc stood, retrieving Falchion from the dirt. The blade gleamed in the morning sun, bronze guard and hilt catching the light. As promised his mother had had the blade restored to its original form.

Taking up position across from his father and sister, Marc squared his shoulders, resting his weight on the balls of his feet. Pointing Falchion at the ground her closed his eyes, taking slow, purposeful breaths to calm himself.

"You ready?!" Morgan shouted, her voice splitting the still morning.

"Ready," Marc replied. Opening his eyes Marc raised Falchion into a neutral guard before him. He brow knit together he focused every sense on the two across from him, watching for even the smallest muscle twitch that could potentially reveal their next attack.

"_Never move preemptively, knowing the moment to act can shift the entire balance of a fight," _his mother's advice echoed in his head, recalled from one of their earlier training session. Acting too soon could prove just as disastrous as reacting too slow.

"Ha!" Morgan exclaimed, chucking the first ball at him

Twisting his shoulders, Marc narrowly avoided the projectile, the leather missing his arm by no more than an inch. Digging in his back foot, he dropped low, the next sailing over his head. Shoving a hand against the ground, he scrambled to right himself. Even before he completed the motion he knew he wouldn't have time to regain his footing and dodge, his father and sister loosing a more rapid barrage. So he changed tactics, bringing Falchion up in the a lighting quick slice.

_Thwith._

Falchion's edge split the leather as easily as were it made of paper, sand fanning out behind it. Sidestepping the next ball, he shifted his weight, pausing half a beat. The he reversed direction, bringing his blade back around.

_Thwith. Thwith._

He intercepted the remaining two projectiles with a chain of circular cuts, Falchion flowing around him. Sand rained down onto his head, none of the projectiles finding their mark.

Breathing heavily, Marc let his shoulder slump, Flachion's tip sinking towards the ground. For a moment no one moved, the only sound his own racing heart and panting breaths.

" . Awesome!"Morgan exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. "You were all like _swoosh_, _swoosh_, _swoosh_, and the sand was all like _spwish_, _spwish_, _spwish_." Morgan flailed her arms around as she set about recreating exactly what had happened. "That last bit was supposed to be a spraying sound, by the way. Those are hard to do."

"I think what Morgan is trying to say, is that you did good," Robin interjected, rolling his eyes at Morgan's continued attempts to vocalize the proper sound effect for spraying sand. Moving over to him, he put a hand on Marc's shoulder squeezing it gently.

"Thanks. Though I think I got a bit of sand in my eyes. It kinda stings," Marc said. He blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes with his sleeves.

"Your reaction time and precision has improved immensely over the past couple days. Your mother might need to watch herself, or soon she won't be the best swordsman in the family," Marc's father continued. Pride swelled in Marc's chest as his father smiled down at him, his expression conveying just how impressed by the fruits of Marc's training.

"I'm not sure I'm to one who should be concerned about holding onto that particular title. You are leaving out both my father and uncle Lon'qu. I'm not convinced I am superior to either." Lucina interjected, Marc watching out of the corner of his eyes as his mother moved to join them.

"Well, if only someone didn't keep throwing their sparring matches against him so we could get an actual answer to that," Robin teased, elbowing her in the arm to punctuate his chest. "Besides, didn't you beat your uncle way back when at Arena Ferox?"

"I honestly still am not quite sure what happened there," Marc's mother admitted, frowning. "One minute he was moving to attack and the next his guard suddenly dropped." She shrugged, trailing off.

At any rate, I think we can all say we're proud of how quickly you've improved," his father continued, turning back to him. Looking away, the tactician's eyes fell on the ruined remains of the projectiles Marc had hit. Not to mention that sand that now littered the stonework that cut through the courtyard's center. "Though it does look like we've made a bit of a mess. Probably should clean this up."

"Yeah, I supposed we did. Sorry about that." Marc chuckled. "I'll go get a broom"

**. . . . .**

After helping to clean up the remains of the balls he'd destroyed, Marc excused himself to an empty section of the courtyard, giving his father and sister space to being their daily spellcasting practice.

Setting Falchion's sheath aside, Marc stepped into the center of the space, holding Falchion parallel to his body. Stepping forward he slashed at an imaginary foes, working his blade in circular motions around him. Continuing step by step he worked through the blade from his mother had taught him, which she'd developed as a way to hone speed and precision. The steps required one to change direction, aiming for shifting opening at an instant's notice, which even she still often failed to perform flawlessly on every attempt.

Despite the challenges, Marc found the form relaxing, the flowing strikes allowing him to fall into an almost hypnotic rhythm. The minutes slipped by, the world seeming to have faded away but for the movement of his blade and his own steady breathing.

Coming to the conclusion of the form, Marc stepped forward, swinging his blade in two blinding arcs. Shifting his weight onto his back foot he leapt forward, bring his blade down with a shout and-

Pain, searing, burning, agonizing pain shot through Marc's skull. Darkness filled his vision, broken only by throbs as the molten knife shot deeper and deeper into his head. Red orbs swirling in blackest night, morphing into three sets of slitted eyes. Black teeth glinted like obsidian, maw open wide to swallow him whole.

Marc yelped, falling off balance as reality snapped back into focus. Pale sparks flew from Falchion's surface, a jolt shooting up his arm as if shocked. Gasping, he staggered back, the blade falling from his numb fingers. The sword's tip sunk into the earth, wobbling slightly before stilling.

Marc swayed on his feet, his stomach churning. He managed a single step before his legs buckled, falling to his hands and knees. He gasped for breath, fighting to keep his breakfast down.

_I don't understand… what…_ He squeezed his eyes shut, another wave of pain rolling through him. Whatever he'd felt, it had come from Falchion. He hadn't felt anything like since… not since he'd come to this world.

"Marc! Are you okay?" His mother rushed over to his side, her eyes wide. Concern was plastered openly on her face as she knelt down next to him, helping him to his feet.

"I-I don't… I don't k-know," Marc stammered, his heart still racing. "There were sparks and…" He gazed down at his numb hand. His palm and fingers were flushed red, as if he'd been holding ice. Frowning he tried to close his hand, his fingers twitching slightly but otherwise failing to obey his body's commands. "W-What could have happened."

"I'm not sure," his mother answered, frowning. Reaching down, his mother cautiously reached out for Falchion hilt. The blade seemed to shimmer at her touch, but otherwise showed no sign of violent reaction it had displayed but moments before.

"I don't feel anything strange," she said, her brow furrowing as examined the weapon more closely. "Whatever happened it seems to have subsided for now," she said at length, offering the sword to him.

By now the feeling had begun to return to hand. Flexing his fingers, Marc paused, summoning his courage, then slowly reached out for the hilt. He managed to make it as far as brush his fingertips against the metal, jerking his hand back a sparks lanced between his skin and the spot he'd touched.

"N-No, I can't." Stumbling back, Marc dropped to the ground, wrapping himself in his arms as he shivered. He couldn't, not again. Whatever had caused it, it surely was because of him. Of course it had to be, it didn't shock his mother when she picked it up. Had the blade finally rejected him? Decided he wasn't worthy?

So wrapped up in these thoughts, Marc did not notice as his mother knelt down next to him, only stirring when he felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder. "It's alright, Marc, you don't have to attempt again today."

He nodded slowly, but otherwise said nothing.

Standing, his mother went to retrieve Falchion's sheath from where he'd place it at the edge of the courtyard. Returning a minute later she offered the weapon to him, which he accepted gingerly, careful to only touch the leather sheath encasing it. This time the blade didn't react to his touch, as if was merely any other sword.

"Once your father's done practicing with Morgan I'll see if he and I can figure out what happened," his mother assured him, returning her hand to his shoulder.

Silence hung over them, try as he might Marc found the strength to form a reply failing him.

"Marc?" She asked, worry edging her voice. "If you're upset, you can always tell me, you know that?"

"I…" He bit his lip, fighting to keep his voice from breaking. "I-I just want to be alone right now… I need to think."

His mother nodded slowly, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a minute before falling away. "Alright. Don't worry too much, we'll figure out why your Falchion is acting so strangely, Marc. It's not your fault."

**. . . . .**

Marc stared at the floor of his room. Shadows of memory seemed to dance just outside the edge of his view, only a conscious effort keeping him from slipping back into the ghosts of his own future past.

Falchion lay on the opposite side of his bed, the blade seeming to stare back of him. Judging him.

_Of course it'd judge me… after everything I did, who wouldn't?_

Marc sighed, hanging his head in his hands. He knew no one actually blamed him for what had happened in his timeline, and on some level he knew he logically shouldn't blame himself either. He'd been only six when his mother had died and his father had fallen to Grima's control. What had he been supposed to do? He'd been too young to really know better… too desperate to pretend he still had a family. By the time he'd gotten older he'd already been conditioned to serve as one of the fell dragon's agents, and too afraid to obey the lingering pangs of his conscience.

_It wasn't your fault… it wasn't your fault. He would have killed Morgan if you hadn't done everything he said. He would have killed your sister. _Tears fell down Marc's cheeks, staining the bedsheets. No matter how many times he repeated this and other similar arguments, he could not ignore one simple fact: the countless people he'd killed under Grima's commands. Even now he could still see their faces, staring back at him, judging him. Forced too or not, their blood had left a mark on him, on his very soul. One not even time could easily wash away.

_A mark on his soul._

Reaching down, Marc tugged at his left sleeve, pulling it up. Just under his wrist a faded mark could be seen, barely noticeable except by close examination. The Mark of Grima.

It had faded to it's current state after Fell Dragon's defeat in his own timeline. Perhaps that should have been enough, knowing Grima's connect to him had grown weaker. _But I still have it… still have fell blood in my veins. _As far as he was aware, Morgan had never manifested Grima's mark, and the fact he did where she did not perhaps said all that was needed. Perhaps that was why Falchion had rejected him… maybe it has sensed the darkness deep within him. That was why he hadn't shown it to anyone, not even his family. He didn't want them know, didn't want them to think he was some sort of… some sort of-

"Boo!"

Morgan jumped, heart hammering in his ears. Hastily pulling his sleeve back down, he whirled around, finding Morgan crouched on his bed next to him. He hadn't even heard her enter.

"M-Morgan?! Where did you come from, I-" Marc spluttered, still in a state of shock. "D-Don't startle me like that."

"Sorry," Morgan smiled, flashing a very 'not sorry' grin. "I heard mother explain to father what happened, so I figured I'd come cheer you up."

Marc frowned. So that's what this was about. "Thanks… I appreciate the thought, but I'd rather be left alone right now." Tucking his chin against his chest, Marc wrapped himself in his arms, returning to his hunched position at the center of his bed.

"Nonsense! Being alone is boring! I'm sure you'd rather have some company," Morgan countered, still grinning as so scooched over next to him. About a second passed in silence before his sister let out an annoyed huff, rolling her eyes. "Come on, this is the part where you tell me what's bothering you and I get to be your awesome, supportive big sister.

"Ten minutes older," Marc muttered, frowning

"Nuh uh, almost three years now. Time travel seniority, go!" Morgan said, laughing. "See, I have you there. No you have to tell me what's eating you!"

"Do you ever think about what we… did… in the that other world? What Grima made us into?" Marc asked, lifting his head.

Morgan's expression sombered a bit, her smile fading. "Sometimes. Even though I can't remember it, I know I still did those things. Sometimes I think that makes it better, like it's almost not real since I don't know any of it. She shrugged. "...but other times I think it makes it worse, for all I know I could have been a crazy mass murderer who enjoyed killing people."

"What? No! You weren't anything like that," Marc said quickly, surprised by this admission. "You were just afraid, like I was. You never enjoyed it, not for a minute."

"Thanks, that makes me feel better and… Hey! I'm supposed to be the one supporting you right now, not the other way around!" Morgan exclaimed, scrunching up her nose, as if horrified that the conversation had begun to go a completely different direction than she'd envisioned. "The point is, you said it yourself. We didn't have a choice back then, but now we do. We can make things better. Also, living in this world is pretty great. I have a boyfriend and everything."

"How do you explain what happened today? Why Falchion reacted the way it did?" Marc asked, frowning.

"Because Grima did something to it, duh? You said he corrupted it with his evil, dragon god evil magic, so maybe it was reacting to you because you're such a good person or something," Morgan offered.

"Morgan… you said evil twice"

"Yeah, that's because Grima was really really really evil. Like, double evil!" Morgan clarified, grinning from ear to ear now. "So, what do you think?"

"I… I just don't know. Maybe. I just can't help but think it was because Falchion don't consider worthy anymore," Marc replied, sighing deeply.

"What? Why would you even have to wonder that?" Morgan asked, her expression incredulous. "You're totally one of the best, super awesome swordsmen I know of. I mean, you _are_ better than me, and that's saying something. Because I'm me. I'm awesome!" She pointed her thumb to her chest, grinning wildly. "Besides, even if Falchion decided you can't use it anymore, what would it know. It's a sword: swords don't know things. It's be a stupid sword, that's what."

For a brief moment Marc felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Then, as quickly as it had come, it faltered, brushed aside in the overwhelming sea of doubt. "Thanks, Morgan… I appreciate it a lot… I…" He sighed. "I wish I could be as upbeat as you."

"What do you mean? Being upbeat is easy. See." Reaching over, Morgan put her hands on either side of Marc's mouth, manipulating his lips into a smile. "No focus on fluffy cute things. Like bunnies. And puppies. Or if that doesn't work, imagine what puppy-bunnies would look like. I like to think they'd look like a puppy but fluffier and with bunny ears."

"Mrrghhn, pleashh ltsh gsh ush mhh facsh," Marc slurred, his words muffled by Morgan's hands.

"Never! Not until you smile for real!" Morgan countered, refusing to let go.

This got a genuine laugh out of him, or at least, the closest he could get to one with his sister's fingers hooked around the corners of his mouth.

"Ha ha, victory is mine! The tactician wins!" Morgan shouted, releasing him and throwing her hands up in victory. "So, you better now?" She asked, turning to look at him

"A bit," Marc admitted. "You _are_ really good at cheering people up."

"The best there is," Morgan agreed, grinning. "I take it you're still kinda worried about Falchion shocking you, huh."

"Yeah." Marc shrugged. He sighed, his smile faltering

Morgan put her arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a half hug. "Don't worry, little brother, I'm sure Mother and Father will figure this out. I mean, they _did_ say they would and they can do anything! Just give it time."

Marc forced a smile back to his face. That was all he could do now, just wait and hope…

Hope that Morgan was right.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well guys, here is is, the first part of a new mini-arc to focus on Marc's development following the events of _A Future Disowned._ If you've gotten this far without reading Disowned… what the heck are you doing? Go read that story! Nothing here is going to make sense otherwise! Are you crazy?!

Uh, erm, anyways… there will likely be three, maybe four more chapters of this arc, at which point I will get back to one-shots and fluff. I hope you guys enjoy, and as always, if you liked (or maybe you hated) the story please leave a review to let me know what you think! Until next time, cheers!


	19. A Future Undone - Part 2

**Title:** A Future Undone - Part 2

**Description:** For a week Marc's Falchion has been acting strangely, the worst coming in painful visions and painful discharges of energy. So far no one one has been able to determine the cause. Blaming himself and growing desperate, Marc hatches a plan.

**Note: **Second chapter of Marc focused mini-arc. Takes place one month following the events of _A Future Disowned_. **Spoiler Warning****,** if you have not read _A Future Disowned_ and wish to avoid spoilers for that story, turn back now.

* * *

The days passed quickly since the first 'episode', as Marc had soon taken to calling them, where Falchion had lashed back against him. As promised his parents had set to work attempting to identify this cause. Days were spent pouring over the blade, from examining it through means both mundane and magical to scouring every written record of the weapon's history for the smallest clue. Yet despite the best efforts of his mother, father, sister, and everyone else they tried no one could determine the cause behind Falchion's sudden erratic behavior. His father alone had attempted countless spells for hours on end. to root out the cause but to no avail.

Marc had all but given up on practice, the agonizing backlashes that came seemingly at random whilst wielding the weapon growing more intense with each episode. What's worse, as far as he could determine only he was affected. His mother could handle it with no ill effects. His father too, the blade as dull and lifeless in his hands as it ever was for those not of the Exalted bloodline. Even his sister had no trouble, Morgan only reporting an uncomfortable sensation she couldn't rightly place compared to their mother's Falchion.

His parents had insisted they'd keep looking, that they were bound to get to the bottom of this eventually. But as time went on Marc could only feel that the failure meant one thing: that what was wrong with Falchion was on him. It was his fault, and so it was up to him to fix it.

The only problem, he could think of only one person who could possibly help him makes things right. Falchion's creator. Naga.

And so he hatched a plan.

It didn't take much to prepare the supplies he needed: a loaf of bread and some fruit swiped from the kitchens, a length of rope stored in the supply cellar, a map from the library, and a handful coins gather piecemeal over the course of a week. He made sure to gradually gather his supplies to avoid rousing suspicion, stowing them in a bundle under his bed until it was time.

Days passed until at last, he was ready.

He excused himself early that night, preparing for bed as he always had. Only tonight he only feigned sleep, laying motionless in bed for hours until the whole of the royal palace had fallen still, all it's densins having long since retired to bed. Slowly Marc got out of bed, passing with but a rustle of covers. In the bed opposite of him his sister snored softly, mumbling something unintelligible in her sleep. Deep sleeper as she was, Marc nonetheless moved as silently as he was able, creeping out into the hallway.

Making his way to his parents' bedroom, he opened the door an inch, peering inside. He managed to make out the forms of two people under the covers through the darkness. _Good, they're both still asleep. _Closing the door, Marc signed in relief. Peeking inside had been a stupid risk, but one he'd figured necessary. If they'd caught him then he could feign being woken by a nightmare: at worst delaying his departure by a couple of days. Being caught later because one or both of them had still been awake, however, would have proven far more disastrous.

Tip-toeing back to his room, Marc carefully removed his bundle of supplies from under his bed. Opening it, he withdraw the rope and looped it around one bedpost before tieing the two loose ends together. Taking the doubled up length to the window, he tossed it down, to the courtyard below. He'd made sure to measure the length beforehand, as it would need to be more than twice as long as the distance from his window to the ground for this method to work.

Strapping Falchion to his back, Marc slipped through the opening window, climbing down the rope. Reaching the bottom, he untied the two ends, carefully drawing one end to slips the whole length free. With one last tug the remaining rope slithered down onto the ground. Marc, smiled, pleased with his work. Despite requiring extra rope, this way had meant he could retrieve it when he was done. Not only could he now reuse it later on, but also had avoided leaving unnecessary signs to his departure. Now if he was lucky, he would be far from the Ylisstol by the time his absence was discovered. Far too late for anyone to stop him.

For a long moment Marc gazed back up at his room, a lump forming in his throat. _Mother… Father… Morgan… I'm sorry, but I must do this. I promise I'll return once I make things right. _

Sucking in a deep breath, Marc turned away, hardening his nerves for what must be done. Keeping to the cover of the trees, Marc made his way to the castle's outer wall, finding the small opening in the stonework that his grandfather had made while practicing some years before. When he and Morgan had been younger they'd often used it to sneak in and out of the palace. Not that they had ever made it very far: not of course when Mother and Father both new of this secret entrance.

Squeezing through, Marc descended down the hillside to the city proper, picking a route covered by bushes and trees to obscure his passing. At the bottom he found a spot between a line of hedges and a building out of sight from both the castle and the streets beyond. Opening his bundle of supplies, he changed out of his nightclothes into the clothes he'd picked days before. Rather than the Plegian style garments his sister and father wore, he had opted for apparel like his mother's. A padded vest of blue-dyed leather went over a simple tunic and trousers; bracers, shoulder guards, gloves and boots of the same material as the vest next. Covering his shoulder he draped a blue cloak, clasped by a bronze emblem identical to his mother's.

Rolling his shoulders, Marc stood, turning the face the darkened streets. With one last look behind him, he slinked into the shadows of an alleyway and out of sight,

**. . . . .**

The night deepened as Marc wound his way towards the main gate. The route he'd chosen was less than direct, avoiding main streets as to not draw undue attention. The night watchmen would certainly try to stop him, if only to question him as to why a child his age was out so late unattended.

Keeping close to the shows cast by a building, Marc crept closer within site of the city gate. Two guards stood to either side of the archway, their backs to the wall. Marc checked the night sky, doing some quick estimates in his head. _Right, from the moon's position it looks like it's almost midnight. I just hope the guard's are on schedule. _Indeed, he only had the deployment records to go on. If the watch shift had been changed early it would be several hours before the gates would be opened to let relive the watchtower post just further down the road.

Anxious minutes crawled by as Marc listened, waiting for the sound of armor clanking just beyond the outer wall. _Come on, where are they. Where are they. _They should be here by─ There!

The rhythmic beat of footsteps and the jingle of chain filled the air, faint at first, growing louder by the minute. Smiling, Marc reached into his bag, retrieving the tome he'd prepared just for this occasion. The spell was of Miriel's own design, duplicating the effects of Kellam's natural, pressenceless field. Rather than making him invisible the spell would make it more difficult for onlookers to focus on him, hopefully allowing him to slip by.

Chanting the spell softly under his breath, Marc finished the casting just as the footsteps stopped. With a creek the wooden gates swung open. Wasting no time he leapt to his feet, sprinting towards the door. A single surprised 'huh' filled the air as he almost ran head first into one of the watchmen on the other side, dodging out of the way just in time. Heart hammering, Marc dove down into the ditch just to the side of the road, daring not to even breath.

"What was… damn, must be seeing things. These night shifts are killin' me," the guardsman muttered, blinking as he stared the way Marc had come.

Slowly the guard passed through the gate, the wooden doors groaning shut a moment later.

Marc exhaled, relief laughing to himself under his breath. _I did it! Father will be be so proud when he hears about it… after he's done being upset about me running away… yeah…. _Dusting himself off, Marc let the spell end. Checking that the coast was clear, he scrambled out of the ditch, setting off down the road. Now all he had to do was slip past the watch-tower and he'd be in the─

"Going somewhere?"

Marc nearly leapt from his skin at the sudden voice. The tip of his boot caught on a rock, sending stumbling and arms flailing as he desperately fought to keep his balance. Managed to catch himself with one hand, he scrambled upright, whirling around.

There, at the side of the road, stood his father, mother, and sister, knowing smiles on all of their faces. All three were fully dressed, and from their relaxed stance must have been waiting for him for some time.

"Wha? I thought─ H-How did you─ But you were─" Marc stammered, his mind racing in an attempt to process how everything had gone wrong. His plan had been going perfectly too, he'd been sure none of them had picked up on it.

"Give me some credit, I _am_ a master tactician after all. You'd have to wake up pretty early to have pull one over on me," his father replied, laughing. "Figuratively speaking, of course. Technically it is after midnight, so you did literally wake up really early for this time. Nonetheless, good effort."

"But I planned everything. How did you know I was going to─" He stopped himself, realising it was pointless. Clearly he had slipped up somewhere.

"To be truthful, after your Father and I couldn't figure out what was wrong with your Falchion we suspected you would attempt something of this nature," his mother explained, smiling softly. She turned her gaze to her husband, prompting him to continue

"So we kept a close eye on you. Then as soon we were sure you planned to leave I put our little counter operation in motion," Marc's father continued, grinning perhaps with a bit of smugness as he finished.

"But I saw both of you asleep. And I _know_ you were asleep!" He argued, turning to point as finger at Morgan.

"I was faking it, duh," Morgan said, rolling her eyes indignantly. "It's really not hard, snore a little, mumble about cake and kittens, spy on you when you weren't looking. You know, normal stuff."

"As for your mother and I what you saw were nothing more than some extra pillows stuffed under covers. A bit of an overused trick, I know, but it holds up as long as you don't look too closely," the white haired tactician added. "Meanwhile the two of us were already waiting for you here. Morgan stayed behind since her not being in bed would have tipped you off, and so she could trail you in the event that you took another route out of the city."

"Yep!" Morgan said, grinning from ear to ear. "Once I was sure I teleported ahead to wait for you. Since I sure as heck wasn't about to miss the look on your face when you saw us. Good thing too: it was hil-ar-ious."

Marc frowned through the whole explanation, his heart sinking in his chest. Here he'd thought he'd been so clever, only for his family to end up being the ones to outsmart him. "I hadn't even thought... even considered that you'd… know I would try something like this. I thought I could do this on my own, fix this without…" He trailed off, hanging his head.

"Marc…" His mother said. Her hand came to rest on his arm, squeezing it gently. "You take after your father in many ways, and one of those is a tendency to blame yourself and feel like you must take full responsibility for any misfortune that befalls you, I am afraid," his mother added. "So you felt responsible for Falchion's state, and so took it upon yourself to fix the problem. To fix what you believed was your mistake."

"But it _is_ my fault. All of it. I let Grima corrupt Falchion. I'm the one the blade is rejecting, me," Marc cried. Tears began to fill his eyes, blurring his vision. His shoulders shuddered once, a stifled sob falling from his throat. "I need to fix it. I know you'll try to stop me, but I won't listen. I won't!"

"Marc. Who said anything about us stopping you?" His mother said, her voice gentle. "We wouldn't have let you come this far if we didn't understand that you need to do this."

"Let's face it kiddo, the only thing your we're going to stop is this whole 'going off alone' business. We're your family, and that mean's we're going to help you whether you like it or not." His father added. Stepping aside, his father motioned to the pair of backpacks that had been sitting behind him, laden with supplies and gear one would need for a long journey. "Besides, I don't quite think you packed enough things to get you all the way to Mount Prism."

As feeling stupid went, Marc couldn't remember an instance where he felt dumber than he did right now. Gods, he'd been so worried about them trying to stop him that it had never crossed his mind that the opposite was true. Of course they'd be there to support him. He'd spent so much time alone... that he'd forgotten that he wasn't any any longer.

"I… I don't… Thank you… I'm an idiot, not telling you in the first place. I was so scared, but now… now I don't have to do this alone." He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, the first genuine smile of the night gracing his lips. Then he froze, something he'd noticed occurring to him then. "Wait, why are there only two bags? Shouldn't there be four"

"That's because only I will be accompanying you," his mother answered. "This journey is as much about you finding peace with your past, Marc. It was your father's judgement that all of our presences would prove far too distracting, a belief I am inclined to agree with." She smiled, motioning her hand to where her own Falchion was buckled at her side. "More so, I have the most experience with Falchion, so it is only right that I am the one to aid you in your quest. Together we shall seek council and undo the remaining harm Grima has left in this world."

"But you're pregnant, mother! Is it safe for you to come with? What if something were to happen?" Marc exclaimed, fearful for the safety of his and Morgan's unborn younger selves.

"That's why she has you to protect her," his father answered, reaching out to tousle Marc's hair. "Don't worry kiddo, I wouldn't be counting on you if I didn't think you could do it."

"And the best part is that while you and mother are away, father and I get to spend some quality time together. We can stay up late, practice strategy, read books, play tome stackers, tell scary stories, eat as much dessert as we want without mother stopping us, and─" His sister rattled off cheerfully, bouncing up and down in place.

"I think he gets the point, Morgan." The older tactician sighed, placing a hand on Morgan's shoulder to hold her still.

"Well, Marc, we must be off," his mother told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If we make good time we can reach the sea within two days. From there we can catch a ferry to the mountain." She turned back to her husband and Morgan. "I take it you two will do your best to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

"We'll try our best. No promises though." Robin grinned, stepping forward he pulled her into a tight hug, planting a kiss on the princess' forehead. "Be safe."

"I promise," Lucina whispered.

Marc's father lingered for another moment before loosening his embrace, turning to regard him now. "Marc, before you go, just remember: You're always your worst enemy. It's something I've learned from experience. Doubt yourself, and you will fail. Don't let that happen." He hugged him as he finished, pulling him close. "You stay safe too, okay? I couldn't live with myself if I let something happen to you. After everything, I'd be ashamed if I couldn't owe you that much."

"D-Dad, it's okay," Marc stammered, returning the hug. "I promise, I'll be fine. I can handle myself, really." Letting go, Marc pulled away. Turning he stepped back towards his mother tot─

_Smack._

"Good luck, little brother! Just remember you bestest sister in the whole world believes in you, and that means you can do anything!" Morgan exclaimed cheerfully, Marc still reeling from the hard slap on his back.

"Thanks," Marc managed, shooting his sister a look he hoped conveyed both his irritants and how genuinely touched by her faith in him. Sighing as Morgan scrambled back over to their father, Marc rubbed the now sore spot just under his shoulder.

Stooping down, he shouldered one of the two packs, his mother doing the same with the other. "Well, I suppose we better be off then, huh, Mother?" Marc said, forcing a smile to his lips.

"Let's." She smiled back at him, adjusting the straps on her pack. Giving one last wave to their family, the two turned away, setting off down the road and the adventure ahead.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, sorry for how late this one was, I have had a lot of stuff going on. I'd intended to get this out last week, but clearly that didn't happen. XP

Oh well, hopefully the next one will be out sooner. There should be about three ish more Chapters of this mini-arc, so in the meantime please leave your thoughts, suggestions, and comments in a review. It really makes my day to hear from you guys :D


	20. A Future Undone - Part 3

**Title:** A Future Undone - Part 3

**Description: **Two days into their journey Marc awakes from a nightmare, one born from his days as Grima's servant. Can his mother really help him come to accept his past and begin to move forward? Or are some wounds too deep to ever truly heal?

**Note: **Third chapter of Marc focused mini-arc. Takes place one month following the events of _A Future Disowned_. Spoiler Warning, if you have not read _A Future Disowned_ and wish to avoid spoilers for that story, turn back now.

* * *

Marc awoke with a gasp, eyes snapping wide open. Sweat drenched his face, cold and sticky in the frigid air. For a panicked instant, he reached for his sword, mind working to recall where he was and how he'd gotten there. Then he remembered setting up camp, and the day's march before. He exhaled, letting his hand drop back to his side, having been less than an inch from Falchion's hilt.

Night had fallen, the forest around him was still and quiet. A small fire burned at the center of the clearing mixing with the luminous silver sheen of the stars and moon that shone from distance in the sky. The last thing he could remember was his mother going to gather firewood. He must have dozed off.

_It felt so real… _Marc shuddered, unable to tell from fear or by the cold. The dream had been one he'd had so many times before. A silent battlefield strewn with the corpses of his friends, dead by his own hand with blood staining him. Grima loomed overhead, casting a shadow that consumed the last light of a dying world.

A wolf howled in the distance.

Marc tensed, sucking his a breath. His eyes fell against his sword, fighting the instinct to go for the weapon.

"They won't trouble us. The wolves, I mean. They are far from our camp," his mother's voice cut in before he could do more. Turning his head, he spied her sitting some distance away. Her back was against a fallen log, Falchion's naked blade across her lap and a cleaning rag folded in her palm. "Even were they closer, they would not approach us with the fire burning, I think," she continued, her gaze lingering on the flickering flames before turning to him.

"I…" Marc frowned, exhaling as he forced his body to relax. "It startled me. In my future there weren't many wild animals left. Now that I'm here I guess I still need to get used to this sort of thing." He shrugged, lowering his gaze.

"I know."

Marc's gaze snapped back up to his mother, eyes widening. _How could she know what he- Oh. _

If she'd noticed his reaction, his mother showed no sign, continuing the thought as if nothing had happened. "It was much the same when I came back to this time. The owls and the insects were the worst, the constant buzzing and hooting kept me wide awake the first couple nights." She laughed softly, shaking her head as she recalled some far off memory. "Even after I could hardly sleep long. In the future even the softest noise could be the only warning we got before an attack."

Marc shuddered, images of Risen descending on the camps of survivors. Of blood and screams splitting the night. The attacks he himself had led. "I'm sorry," he choked, the words escaping him before he'd realized he'd spoken out loud.

"What? You didn't do anything wrong," his mother said, her voice tinged with confusion. "If anything it is I who should be apologising. I was the one who was supposed to protect you, to ensure that my future didn't befall anyone again. And I failed it seems, failed you and Morgan. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault. None of it was…" Marc's voice faltered. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the tides of memory. "Besides, none of that happened here. You didn't leave me..."

"Even so, no matter how things may have transpired differently, I still feel as though I owe you better," His mother told him. Setting Falchion aside, she scooted closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. "You're right, perhaps I'm not at fault, but it is still my duty to help you now to make up for what the me of your time could not."

Marc nodded. Turning his head he stared into the fire, willing the flames to consume the visions lurking at the edge of sight. For a long while neither of them spoke, only the rustle of leaves and the occasional pop as water trapped deep within wood fueling their fire was released, dissipating in wisps of steam.

As he sat in silence Marc slowly became aware of a question that had been nagging him since the start of the journey. "Mother, when we set out you mentioned the reason you accompanied me instead of father or Morgan was because you had more experience with Falchion. But… there is another reason isn't it. Not that I'm complaining it's you, just… I don't really see how who came with me really changes things." He looked up at her as he finished. His mother's gaze was on the fire. Even as silence fell once more she made no answer, her expression having grown suddenly distant, as her mind was on matters no longer present.

**. . . . .**

"This is all my fault," Lucina whispered, lowering her face with her hands.

"Hey, don't talk like that. I thought we both agreed not to blame ourselves for our other selves' failings," Robin said softly. Hands gently worked their way between hers, prying from his face so that she'd look at him. "You didn't abandon, Marc, Lucina. And the other you never wanted any of this.

"I know, but… " Lucina shook her head, her gaze passing over their bedchamber. It was late, a single candle burning at the center of her husband's desk, casting long, flickering shadows that did nothing to dispel the gloom of their conversation. "Even so, I should have realized it sooner. I knew Marc was going through the same things I had, but to this extent…"

In the ghostly light Robin's features were difficult to make out, but eventually Lucina picked out the lines of knitted brows, his expression thoughtful. "I know. And that's why you're going with him, Lucina. You understand what he's going through. Far better than I could."

It was true, she did understand what it was like to lose one's parents at a young age and grow up in a ruined future. But still, how could she be the one to help him? Robin was so much better at this than her, he always made it so easy. Besides, what he'd said before...

"Robin, you said before that the problem still hasn't come to terms with his mothe- _my_ death, but I still don't fully understand." Lucina frowned, staring at her hands as she worked out how best to explain her jumble of uncertain thoughts. "I know he would see it as the biggest moment in his life. The moment where everything went wrong… Like for me… when my father died."

Even as she spoke Lucina's mind wandered the moment she first met her son. Him sobbing in her arms as she held him in the rain. '_You promised that you wouldn't die too.' _Those simple words said everything.

Robin dipped his head in agreement. "Exactly. Here you have a scared little boy. Something happened to his father, something he's too young to understand. And now his mother's leaving, and she promises him that everything will be alright. That's the last time anything _was_ alright for him, for a long, long while."

"Yes, but… there must be more than that. If anything being here with us should have helped heal those wounds. Such as meeting my parents again did for me," Lucina whispered, her breath coming short as she considered the thought. _Did he blame her? Resent her for leaving? _But no, that wouldn't make any sense. He'd shown no resentment towards her. It was almost as if-

"He blames himself," Lucina said, the realization hitting her before Robin could reply. "Deep down he's made himself believe it's his fault I left. His fault that I didn't return." The more she thought about it the more sure she was with her guess. How? How had she failed to realize this.

While she had blamed herself for her parents deaths at times, it had never truly consumed her. Perhaps it was merely because she'd been older, better able to understand the cruelty the world could bring outside your control. Perhaps she'd had too many other things to worry about, the task of simply keeping everyone else alive chief among them, to truly blame herself. Even still, she'd should have considered this, considered how easily this blame could consume you. For while Marc had not acted quite in the nature she had, he had acted just as Robin would have in those circumstances.

Robin nodded. "I'm afraid if there is one thing Marc and I have in common it's our ability to find a way to blame ourselves no matter how irrational." He laughed softly, the sound bitter and devoid of any real mirth. Reaching next to him, he picked absently picked up the quill sitting at the center of his desk, passing it through his fingers. Then he sighed, setting aside once more before continuing. "I talked to Morgan yesterday, and what Marc said to her while they were fighting during the battle in their own world matches up. 'You can't promise me everything will work', was what he said to her."

"And he thinks it's his fault," Lucina finished, his voice barely more than a whisper. "So many broken promises, and he thinks it's because of him. That something's wrong with him. That they left him on purpose, and it was his fault." Lucina blinked, tears welling in her eyes as the thought of the crippling loneliness Marc must have gone through, loneliness he'd thought he'd caused. It's no wonder he blames himself for everything else he did as Grima's servant. After all that it would have taken much to convince himself he was truly a monster.

_Marc… I'm so sorry. I let this happen to you, all of it._

Robin nodded again slowly, wrapping a hand around her's. "Yeah." he whispered. The word seemed to hang in the air, the weight carried by that confirmation baring down on them. "That's the problem, Marc can't heal because he still can't bring himself to accept that we won't abandon him at any moment. A part of him is still that same scared little boy, who lost his parents and thinks it's all his fault."

Lucina nodded but did not answer, her own thoughts turned to figuring how she could possibly help Marc. How she could show him that she wouldn't leave him again. How she could help him understand that it wasn't his fault he'd ended up alone for so long.

**. . . . .**

"Mother?" Marc asked at length, breaking the still that had fallen over them. "Are you okay?"

She turned her head, her eyes falling on him. Her expression slowly changed, becoming something that was both pensive and understanding. "Marc, are you afraid I'm going to leave you?"

"What? No. No, I don't…" his trailed off, his voice failing him. Did he honestly believe that? And did it even matter if she meant it or not? Promises, meant or not, could still be broken. And for him they were always.

_It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. None of them wanted to leave you. You didn't cause it. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault._

"Marc… you can talk to me... I know it's hard, but you can tell me anything," his mother said, her voice piercing the chant he repeated to himself again and again.

"I-I…" Marc whispered, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I don't know. I'm scared. Scared something's going to happen. Scared you'll leave me too."

"I'd never want that."

"And I… know that, but… why did you leave me before? Why'd you have to go? I was so afraid… and… you never came back."

The hand she'd placed on his arm squeezed him gently, her touch assuring him she was still there. "I'm sorry I didn't come back before, but you know that it wasn't on purpose. Your mother tried as hard as she could to protect you. I tried as hard as I–"

_Snap._

Marc stiffened, his breath hitching in his throat. His mother had heard it too, her hand moving towards Falchion. It had grown far too quiet, even the wind having fallen still. Exchanging a rapid glance they began to stand, reaching for their weapons.

_Twang._

An arrow sunk into the log next to them, missing Marc's hand by barely an inch. He froze, breath escaping in a sudden hiss.

"That was your warnin' shot," a voice called out, coming from somewhere in the treeline. "Now, don't move or we'll fill the lot of you with arrows. Yer surrounded and got nowhere to run to." The sound of bow strings being drawn punctuated the threat.

Marc fought the urge to swear. _Bandits. They must have been drawn by our campfire and surrounded us while we talked._ From the trajectory of the arrow, the unseen archer had hidden himself in one of the trees. The trap had been well executed too, clearly these were no amateurs. Probably former soldiers, scouts more likely, taken to banditry with no other work to be found in the times of peace.

Still, the irony of the situation was not lost on him either. Both her and mother had talked about how even the smallest sound put them on alert, yet they'd been too occupied to notice the ambush until it was far too late.

"Now, if you value yer lives any you'll best not be making any moves. We'll be taking yer weapons, supplies, and any coin you may have. Hands up, step away from your camp, and we might not take your lives," the man continued.

Marc exchanged the quick look with his mother, following her gaze as it darted to where her Falchion lay, then to fire.

Nodding, Marc stood, raising his hands up to shoulder level, his mother following suit. She stumbled slightly, bringing her ever so slightly closer to Falchion. As she straightened their eyes met and his mother nodded once, the motion so small he barely caught it.

Once again the same bandit from before spoke. "You heard me, step away from your weapons and hands up! This is your last–"

"Elwind!"

A crescent wave of wind leapt from Marc's hands, aimed not the treeline but their campfire. Burning coals and ash erupted into the air, embers dancing in the air. Bows twanged, arrows buzzing through the space the two of them had stood an instant before. However they'd already sprung into action, their movements covered by the make-shift smokescreen created by Marc's spell.

Metal rang out as his mother's Falchion cleared it's sheath. In a blur of movement she whirled, deflecting an arrow before it could hit it's mark.

"There!" His mother shouted, Falchion's tip darting to point in the direction the missile had come.

"Arcthunder!"

Blinding white light split the night. Forked tongues of lightning struck at the treeline, dry leaves and branches igniting like a brazer. Agonized cries cut short in a roar of flame, two charred corpses falling from the branches.

For an instant Marc could only stare. He didn't know what was worse. The sight of the gruesome deaths he'd dealt without a second thought, or the fact that a part of him felt nothing more than satisfaction. Pleased even. Yes, he'd done well, Master Grima would be pleased. Father would be–

_No! That's not who I am! I'm not!_

Sudden pain jolted Marc back to reality, a stinging line drawn on his face. Lifting his hand, it's tips came away red, his cheek grazed by an arrow.

Before he could unleash another spell in retaliation a battle cry sounded, a trio of swordsmen charging out from the treeline. Metal clashed as his mother met them, Falchion practically dancing as it met the avalanche of oncoming blows.

Counting on his mother to keep them occupied, Marc threw up his hands, forming a wall of wind between himself and the remaining archers still positioned in the trees. Arrows struck the dirt wide of their targets, thrown off course by the vortex. Sweat dripped from Marc's forehead, stinging his eyes.

"Marc, look out!"

Marc turned just in time to see one of the three swordsmen slip past his mother, blade held high. Throwing himself back, he narrowly avoided being bisected by the blow, the blade's tip drawing a painful across his shoulder.

"Elwind!" The arcs of wind slashed at the man, throwing him to the ground before he could follow up the attack. That should buy them some time, just need to–

The twang of bowstrings behind was the only warning Marc had. Whirling, Marc knew he wouldn't be able to get out of the way in time. He couldn't.

Something hard slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Then there was a dull thunk of an arrow hitting flesh and a cry of pain.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Bleh, another chapter coming out far later than I would like. Classes have been killing me with work lately, making it really hard to find the time to write as much as I'd like to. Oh well, at least I'm still getting stuff out once a month at the latest, which is better than some I suppose. Still doesn't feel right XP

As always please leave your thoughts, suggestions, and comments in a review. It really makes my day to hear from you guys and often times can be just the motivation I need to keep going full force. Since when I know you guys are out there reading this it makes me think "damn, I need to get this chapter out sooner, as I don't want to let any of my readers down." Silly, I know, but I just can't help but think that sometimes :D


	21. A Future Undone - Part 4

**Title:** A Future Undone - Part 4

**Description:** Ambushed by bandits, Marc loses control when his Mother is injured.

**Note: **Fourth chapter of Marc focused mini-arc. Takes place one month following the events of _A Future Disowned_. Spoiler Warning, if you have not read _A Future Disowned_ and wish to avoid spoilers for that story, turn back now.

* * *

Marc landed hard, his shoulder striking the earth with a solid thud. His vision darkened. With a grunt he rolled over, forcing his eyes to remain open.

Above him stood his mother. Pain twisted her face, an arrow protruding from her left arm. Blood oozed from around the wooden shaft, the arrowhead embedded deep. The bandits charged. She hefted her blade just in time, deflecting the first strike. Then the second. Then the third. On the forth their swords clashed, the lead bandit shoving hard. She slid back an inch, then toppled, landing roughly on one knee. A sword glinted in the fire light as the bandit lunged. At once Marc recognized his mother's peril. She wouldn't be able to recover in time.

Time seemed to stop, Marc's eyes wide with fear. _No. Not again!_

"No!"

Moving without thought Marc's hand closed around Falchion's hilt. Only dimly did it register that he shouldn't have been close enough to reach the spot he left it. Perhaps it has been kicked during the fighting. Perhaps it had somehow been called to him. Not that how mattered.

The blade rang as it cleared the sheath. Pain. A burning spear shot through Marc's entire body. Crimson eyes, obsidian teeth. Death. Ruin. Oblivion. He welcomed the pain, letting it wash over him, obliterating all other sensation.

Leaping to his feet, Marc hacked at the man bearing down on his mother, catching him mid strike. A cry of agony split the air, the bandit reeling back, bloody stumps where his hands used to be. Soon too the scream, was cut short, Marc cleaving down his foe with two brutal cuts. Burning blood splattered his face, yet still he felt nothing.

"Arcwind!" Marc spat, whirling on the remaining two swordsman. A vortex of wind sprouted between the bandits, tossing them aside as easily as though they were little more than a child's playthings.

Thump!

A sudden weight smashed into Marc's shoulder staggering him a step. He whirled, catching a glimpse of an arrow sticking from his back, embedded deep in the muscle. Yet he felt nothing. The pain lost in a sea of unbridled fury.

"You!" Marc shouted, lifting a hand to the treeline. Arrows buzzed past him, one bounding off Falchion's blade, another grazing his arm. "Thoron!"

CRACK! The a tree detonated in a hail of splintered wood and flaming debris that ripped through the surrounding branches. Three forms dropped to the forest floor, one blackened and burnt, another mangled and bloody. The third was motionless for a moment, then staggered upright, favoring one leg. A jagged shard of wood pierced the other, while a smaller fragment jutted from his side. A broken bow lay at his feet. He stared at Marc, his face twisted with pain and fear.

"Wind." Marc muttered, knocking the man to the floor. The man swore in pain. Marc recognized the voice, it was the same bandit who had spoken before.

"You. You could have killed her," he strode forward, Falchion seeming to glow in the light of the burning trees. "You'll pay. Not again. Never again."

The man dragged himself upright. Cornered, with no chance to escape, the man drew his own blade. "Damn ye to hell!" He spat, slashing at Marc's shoulder.

Marc smashed the blade aside, knocking the man back with the sheer force of the blow. He closed in, following up with a relentless barrage of slashes. The bandit was no novice, as Marc had guess probably from some previous military service, managing to block to first few strike despite his wounds.

Marc's blade darted in, drawing a line on the man's arm. Another across his cheek.. Then his shoulder. Again and again Marc drew blood. Each time he could have finished it, ended his foe right then and there. But that would have been too easy. Too good for him. No. He wanted to make him bleed.

Soon the bandit couldn't even raise his sword to defend himself, Marc landing another set of shallow cuts. Throwing up his knee his knocked the man to the ground. forcing the air from his lungs. "Please," the man wheezed, throwing up an arm to defend himself, "I give up! I surren–"

Marc severed the man's hand with single cut. The bandit's eyes went wide with fear, his face going white. "No. Please."

Marc kicked the man's bloody arm aside, hefting Falchion over his head. "Die," he growled, preparing to deliver the killing blow.

"Marc!" A hand seized his arm, holding it in place. He whirled, twisting free from this new foe, preparing the lash out and–

Marc froze as he realized it was his mother who had stopped him. "He was beaten and surrendered, Marc. To kill defenseless foes would mean to stoop to their level," she told him, her expression stern, her voice heavy.

At her voice the world seemed to suddenly rush back into focus, Marc taking his surroundings. The countless countless wounds he'd dealt to the man crumpled before him. The smoldering corpses under the burning treeline. The blood staining his clothes. The scent of death that permeated the camp. Every bit of it present and all too painfully real.

"I… I didn't mean…" Falchion fell from his fingers, all strength and willingness to hold the blade fleeing him.

His eyes fell on the two bandit's he'd knocked aside. One was down, conscious but disabled by a severed hamstring. The other's face was bruised and swollen, eyes closed, but was still breathing. It took a moment before he that it had been his mother who'd disabled them, without resorting to deadly force. Without losing control.

Without wasting an instant his mother moved to tend to the critically injured bandit. Ripping a strip of cloth from the man's shirt, she bound his stump arm in a tourniquet. Once in place she roughly grabbed the man by the collar, forcing a vulnerary down his throat. Her work done, she lowered the bandit, not all too gently, to the ground, turning back to his injured comrades.

"Your friend is stabilized, but may yet die unless a healer tends to him. If you value his life, you would be best pressed to see to that soon rather than follow after us. Not that the later course would prove any less ill for you." Her hand dropped down to where her own Falchion hung at her waist.

The conscious bandit nodded his head quickly, fear plain in his face. At once he dragged himself over to his comrade, shaking him in an attempt to rouse him.

"Good. Word of advice: once I return to Ylisstol I intend to see that soldiers are sent to secure this road. Find a less perilous profession, for they will show far less mercy than I." Stooping she retrieved Marc's Falchion. Returning to the smoldering coals of their fire, she hastily sheathed the blade and shouldered her own pack. "Marc, let's go."

"But what about your…" he eyed her injured arm, an arrow still imbedded deep within the muscle.

"We can tend to it once we are far from here. Come, grab your things," she answered, her voice hard.

Marc started to argue, then stopped himself, hanging his head. What right did he have to disagree with her? None. Not after the damage he caused.

Grabbing his own pack, Marc turned back to the clearing and the carnage he caused. Then he started after his mother, following her into the night.

**. . . . .**

They walked for almost an hour before his mother slowed her pace. Breathing heavily she dropped her pack, leaning against a tree. "That's far enough. Marc, the elixir please. Then I'll tend to your injured."

Doing as he was told he knelt, fishing out the healing potion from her back. "That arrow is pretty deep in their, how do you intend to–"

In a single, fluid motion his mother drew Falchion and sliced through the arrow haft protruding from her arm, leaving only half the length remaining. Thrusting her sword into the ground, she took the vial from him. "You're going to need to push it the rest of the way through. It's barbed, will cause too much damage if we pull it out." she explained, uncorking the elixir with her teeth.

Nodding, Marc gripped the arrow with one hand, her arm in the other to hold it in place. He sucked in a deep breath, then with a grunt forced the arrow the rest of the way through. A strangled gasp fell from his mother's lips, then a groan of pain. She raised to vial to her lips, taking a long draft while Mark pulled the arrow the rest of the way through and out. At once the muscle began to knit itself back together, until there was nothing but unmarked skin where the wound had been but moments before.

Taking the rest the vial offered to him, Marc turned around, dropping down onto the grass to sit cross-legged. The arrow in his shoulder was not in very deep, having hit his shoulder blade. Marc winced as his mother carefully worked the arrow free. The skin itched as he downed the rest of the potion, feeling as though a thousand ants were crawling under his skin as the wound repaired itself.

Marc did not move through all of it, his eyes fixed on the space in front of him. He shuddered, seeing again the flames and the charred corpses. It was so that he barely noticed when his mother kneel down next to him.

"Marc, can you tell me what happened back there? his mother asked. She reached out, putting a hand on his arm.

Marc recoiled from her touch, pulling away on instinct before he was even consciously aware of his actions. Shame filled him at once and he averted his gaze, not wanting to see the hurt look that was surely etched into her face.

"Marc, please," his mother said again, her voice no less gentle than before. "I need you to talk to me. What happened?"

"I…" Marc choked back a sob. His hands trembled and he gripped the sides of his head, dropping down onto the grass. "I was so scared. I thought they were going to kill you and– I got so angry. I just wanted to hurt them! Make them suffer. Suffer for trying to take you away again. I wouldn't let them!"

He began to tremble all over, a sudden fury washing over him. Why should he regret it? They deserved what they got. All of it. They deserved it. Memories of the corpse strewn camp flashed before his eyes, his stomach churning as he again saw the carnage dealt by his own hand. "Gods, what did I do? I slaughtered them without a thought. I… I know they were bad people but…. Gods."

"Marc, listen to me," his mother gripped his shoulders, forcing him to face her. "I'm here. I didn't leave you. I'm still here." She embraced him, holding him close.

Marc could not speak, wracked by sobs. Tears streamed down his face, staining her clothes.

"Being afraid is nothing to be ashamed of. Nor is feeling angry."

"But what I did…" Marc's voice cracked and he shook his head. "I'm a monster...

"Marc, do you regret what you did?" She asked?

"I…" He nodded meekly.

"Then you aren't a monster, Marc. A monster wouldn't regret the things he's done," Grabbing the edge of her cloak, she dabbed at the tears still streaming down him face. "Remember too, those people… they were no innocents. They would have surely killed us if given the chance. The only thing you did wrong was to strike at a foe who'd surrendered, and fought to inflict undue harm. You let your anger control you, something that I should never have allowed to happen."

She rubbed his back as she held him close, whispering soothing words into his ears. Slowly Marc's tears began to lessen, until he lay still in his mother's arms. His eyelids drooped and he felt tired. So very tired.

His mother must have noticed it too, murmuring softly. "It's okay. Mother is here. Rest while you are able."

Marc nodded, closing his eyes. Like a great wave sleep rushed towards him, the world fading in a sea of darkness. The last thing he remembered was his mother's voice murmuring in his ear.

"Sleep well, my son:"

Then sleep took him.

**. . . . .**

"So do you really think Naga can help us?" Marc asked, gazing up to the summit of the mountain looming before them.

It had taken them another day's travel before they reached the coast, then another by boat to cross the bay that lay between them and their destination. The sun was alright high in the sky before they reached the foot of the mountain. Mount Prism glowed in the midday light, birds singing in the trees that climbed it's slopes.

"I do," his mother replied, nodding her head. "My only fear is that Naga has since returned to her slumber. However, should fortune smile on us, yes, I do."

Marc nodded. "Well, better get climbing, huh, Mother?"

Even with the many paths and winding steps cut into the mountain in ages past it still took many hours to scale to the summit. Marc marveled at just how green and alive the mountain seemed. It was so different from the bleak nothingness that had dominated most of his life. Truly, if Grima's powers embodied all that was death, then Naga's brought life wherever her presence touched the world.

The ruined entrance to the sanctuary rose up before them, white stone glowing with golden radiance in the now setting sun. Together the two of them ventured inside, descending the steps into the inner chamber.

The temple's design reminded Marc of the royal palace, only much grander yet far older. Perhaps it had been built by the nation's ancestors in a time long forgotten, though their work could still be glimpsed in the cathedrals and shrines built by their children's children. Sun streamed in from many skylights, scattering against the silvery stone to illuminate the whole chamber. Everything was still and quiet but for the sound of their own footsteps and distant songs of birds.

"What now?" Marc asked, lowering his bag.

"Now we pray to Naga for guidance," his mother answered. She knelt down on the stone, drawing Falchion forth to hold it before her. Marc knelt as well, however he made no move to draw his own blade.

For several long moments neither of them moved. Seconds turned into minutes, yet still nothing happened. Soon Marc began to feel fear gripping him. What if Naga wouldn't appear? What then? How were they supposed to fix Falchion? Perhaps they could travel to Valm and seek lady Tiki. Maybe she could–

A brilliant flash of light lit up the chamber. Marc shielded his eyes, squinting against the blinding rays. Slowly the sea of white began to dim, taking shape to reveal the image of a woman. Her alabaster skin and snow dress shimmered as it forged from moonlight. Her green hair hung to her waist, flowing around the figure as if moved by an unseen wind.

Marc scrambled to his feet. He stare in awe, unsure what to say. Only once before had he seen the Divine Dragon in person, and only then in passing.

His mother stood as well, bowing her head to Naga in respect, Marc quickly following her lead. The last thing he wanted to do is offend a being as powerful as Naga.

"Be welcome, travelers from afar. I have wondered when this day would arrive that the child of fell and exalted blood would come seeking my wisdom," Naga said, her eyes moving from Lucina to Marc in turn.

"I…" Marc swallowed, nerves getting the better of him. His mouth felt thick, as if it had been filled with glue. "I mean, you know why I come? Milady," Marc quickly added, bowing his head.

Naga laughed, carrying with it such radiant joy that Marc could scarcely believe was possible. "Yes, I do know of your quest. Please, you may dispense with the formalities. We have no need of them here, not after all that your family has done in my stead."

Marc nodded quickly and started to bow again. He caught himself, jerking upright before he could finish the gesture. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

His mother stepped forward then. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her gaze fixed on Naga. "Milady, if you know of why it is we came, then perhaps you can shed some light on what has happened. Why is Falchion, the one Marc now bears, acting as it is? Is it some lingering effects of Grima's work?"

Naga said nothing, instead extending a hand to Marc. It took a moment before he realized she was asking for the weapon.

Reaching down, Marc closed his hands around the hilt. A tingle ran up his arm, then a sudden jolt. However, the instant he felt the alien thoughts and visions to enter his mind they were suddenly washed aside, dissolving against the soothing light that seemed to radiate from Naga's very being.

Sucking in a deep breath, Marc drew the sword and offered it to the Divine Dragon.

She did not take it as expected, instead holding her hands out until they hovered an inch above the blade's surface. A green light seems to flow from his palms, washing over the blade like water. After several minutes she withdrew her hands.

"I must apologies, the spell took much longer than I expected. Much of my power was expected when I sent summoned you to aid the very world that the child of mixed blood originates. Even now I feel sleep calling to me. It is good you came when you did. Later and I would have been unable to aid you."

"Did you determine what the cause is, milady?" Marc's mother asked.

Naga nodded. "As I suspected, part of Grima's darkness still lays upon the blade, tainting it's light. Even now my power and his is locked in struggle within, a struggle mirror the one at war within the heart of it's wielder."

"A war in my heart? What do you mean?" Marc asked, gripping his chest with sudden dread. "Y-You can still fix it, right? What Grima did, I mean."

Naga shook her head. "It is not within my power to undo Grima's corruption. But despair not," she added, before either had a chance to react to the seemingly ill turn of events. "Your quest is not futile: while I cannot rid the fell dragon's taint on my own, I can guide you through the restoration. But first you must understand what has been done.

"When Grima corrupted the blade he did not merely imbue it with his own power," Naga said. "He perverted the connection between weapon and wielder. Just as Falchion is bound to those whose blood carried my blessing, Grima connected the darkness he seeded within to the fell tainted blood you carry. It is through you that it fuels itself."

"Y-You mean I…" Marc's voice faltered, a lump forming in his throat. "That I…" We stared down at his trembling hands. Was she right? Was it because deep down, he was tainted? Evil?

"No, not evil. True evil is rare, even within Grima's servants." Naga said, as if reading his thoughts. A kindly smile breaking over her features, a serene sense of calm seeming to flow out from her radiant form. "If my words seemed to imply otherwise, then I spoke poorly, for it was not my intention. Many of the world's greatest champions have come from a dark bloodline. Your ancestry does not define you any more than they."

_Like my father, _Marc realized. He gripped his forearm, where his Mark of Grima lay hidden. His father had been born as Grima's chosen, yet he'd done so many great things and fought with his entire being to stop the Fel Dragon. How could he, then, pretend as though was somehow meant to be evil. That he didn't have a choice.

"I… then what…." Marc croaked, his throat tight as words proved to not come easily.

A hand gripped his arm, his mother taking a step forward to stand right behind him. "I believe the question on both our minds is then, if not some dark power of Grima's own doing, what then, does this spell draw its strength?" she asked, speaking in his stead.

"It feeds instead upon the doubts and fears of the wielder," Naga answered. "This came as no design of Grimas, but from the ties that bind Falchion to wielder. It, in many ways, becomes a part of them." She turned her gaze fully onto Marc's mother now. "Do you not recall Falchion reacting during great moments of emotional strife? Where it seemed almost alive?"

His mother nodded slowly, her expression pensive, as if lost in recollection.

"In those moments Falchion resonated with your spirit, so strong that the connection manifests itself in as a glow that suffuses the blade. It is tied, for good or ill, to the emotions of the wielder," Naga said. "This is how Grima's spell feeds itself. Where Falchion draws strength from the courage, hope, and compassion, Grima's blight draws from the things that oppose these ideals. Fear, despair, anger, pain, guilt, are the things it thrives."

Naga turned, her entire form seeming to shimmer slightly until she faced Marc once more. "While Grima yet lived and you remained his servant the corruption proved easy to fuel. However, once you'd come to this time it's power had begun to fade. It was only a question of time until the blade fought back, while the heart of it's host still carried doubt."

"So it… is still me then, huh?" Marc asked.

Naga nodded slowly, her expression solemn. "Yes. You do not believe yourself worthy of being Falchion's wielder. You fear that you're not good enough, that you have caused too much evil in this world to ever atone. It is this self-doubt that Grima's power draws upon the strongest."

Marc frowned, something occurring to him then. "But I wasn't doubting myself when the first backlash happened. How then? How could it have been because of my doubt?"

"You weren't doubting yourself then? Truly?" Naga asked.

Marc opened his mouth to reply, only to stop himself. He hadn't been… had he? Was it possible that he'd been doubting himself without even realising it. He frowned, lowering his gaze to the floor.

Naga gave a soft, knowing smile. "Whether or not you happened to be conscious to them, you cannot truly bury what you believe within your heart. When Falchion reacted to you as it did, it sought to reinforce the opinion you held of yourself, and so strengthen its hold."

"You… you speak like it can think for itself. Like this spell is actually…"

"Grima," Naga finished for him. "I could not be certain until you came here, but the corruption Grima infused within the blade is no mere curse. It part of his power, small as it may be, that lurks within. As long as this shade of the Fell Dragon remains and still draws strength the blade can never be made whole."

Marc shivered, the cold grip of dread taking hold of his heart. Again images of burning eyes and inky shadows filled his mind. _Was that what I felt in Falchion? Master– No! Don't think of him like that. I'm not his slave. I'm not._

"What if we were to lock the blade away somewhere for a time?" His mother asked. "With nothing to draw upon, it would fade in time, would it not?"

Naga shook her head. "Marc and the power Grima placed within the blade are linked, regardless of who yet wields it, or even the lack of one."

"I see…" His mother frowned.

"T-There must be some way for me to fix this, right?" Marc looked up at Naga, fearing her answer. What if it was impossible?

"Indeed there is, mixed blood," Naga answered. "It, however, not a simple task. Only by facing the darkness lurking within may Grima's traint be banished."

"How? Is there some sort of ritual, or is it more of a…" he frowned. Honestly, he hadn't the faintest idea what alternative there could be. How was he supposed to fight something inside a sword?

"If you so wish, with my magic your spirit may enter the blade. Be warned, this would not... be without risk. While your physical body would remain safe from harm, damage dealt to your soul could prove just as fatal." Naga sighed, the weary sound striking Marc as almost alien coming from the god. "Despite your shared, I fear Grima's shade will resort to deadly force to preserve itself. If you are not strong enough…." she trailed off, letting the unspoken answer hang in the air.

"I'll die," Marc said simply, finishing the statement. Distantly he was aware that this should have frightened him, but somehow it just felt… right. As though the risk was something so beneath his concern that it didn't even register. He nodded slowly. "When do I start?"

"What? No," his mother said at once, her expression startled by his sudden proclamation. "It's too dangerous." She gripped his shoulder, turning to the divine dragon. "Perhaps there is some other way. Is it possible that I may go in his stead. That way I can–"

"No." Marc twisted free of her grip. He turned, meeting her look of surprise with a weak smile. "Mother, I'm not… not going to let you risk yourself for my sake. You hear me. This… this _is_ my fault. Maybe not all of it, but I am still to blame."

"But…"

"I need to set this right. Not just to fix this, but for myself too. I…" he paused, mustering up his courage. "I need prove to myself that I am worthy of being Falchion's bearer. If I don't now, I don't think I'll ever have another chance."

Reach out he grabbed onto his mother's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Please, Mother, I can do this. But I need you to believe in me too. Please."

For a long moment she didn't move, hours seeming to crawl by even though it couldn't have been more than a couple seconds. Then his mother's expression softened and she squeezed his hand back in return. "Of course I believe in you, Marc. What sort of mother would I be otherwise?" She place placed her free hand on his shoulder. "My heart is heavy but… I know you are right. I think this has always been your task to complete. Just please, be careful."

Nodding, Marc threw his arms around his mother, hugging her tightly. "I love you, Mother," he whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

Slowly their grip loosened, Marc slipping away to face Naga. It was time.

"I'm ready," he announced, hardening his nerves for what needed to be done. He gripped Falchion's pommel, a shiver running up his arm at the touch. It was time. Time to face the ghosts of his pace. Time the end the nightmares

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well here we are guys, only one more chapter left of this mini-arc before we return to our usual scheduled fluff programming. I hope you guys have been enjoying this exploration of Marc's character so far and look forward to seeing how this all ends.


	22. A Future Undone - Part 5

**Title: **A Future Undone - Part 5

**Description:** Venturing into a mental landscape, Marc confronts the Shade of Grima locked within Falchion. But can he overcome his fears and defeat this final curse left by the Fell Dragon?

**Note:** Final chapter of Marc focused mini-arc. Takes place one month following the events of _A Future Disowned_. Spoiler Warning, if you have not read _A Future Disowned_ and wish to avoid spoilers for that story, turn back now.

* * *

Marc stood in a smoke filled chamber. He could not recall how he'd gotten there. Nor did he it slowly become conscious of his surroundings. No it was as if he had suddenly appeared there. The last thing he remembered was sitting down before Naga. Her hands had begun to glow, and the next thing he knew...

…he was here.

_Must be where I'm supposed to be. Wherever here is. _Marc gazed around. It all felt so real, so unlike the dream-landscape he'd been expecting. Then again, dreams always felt real until you woke up.

No sound could be heard except for the crackle of flames and the howl of the wind. As far as he could tell he was in a hallway, but the veil of smoke made it impossible to determine the exact location. Further ahead he could make out a doorway, fire burning beyond.

Slowly Marc walked towards the light, a strange feeling of deja vu overtaking him. He passed through the archway and into the chamber beyond. It was the palace throne room, but not as he'd left it back in Ylisstol. Rubble and flames filled the chamber, blake smoke curling through the archways. Through the collapsed ceiling he could see nothing but black skies and the firey glow of the city bellow burning.

"This… this is my time… but how…" Marc froze, noticing dozen or more dark shapes slumped throughout the chamber before him. Fear gripped him as he approached. He didn't to look, but he found himself yet drawn to them.

In the center of the chamber lay the bodies of dozens of Ylissean soldiers, and amongst them the bodies of his friends. Blood yet pooled from gastly mortal wounds, their dead eyes staring back at him. Judging him.

It was only then that Marc noticed the blood staining his own clothes. The blood covering his own hands. It was still warm. And he knew. Knew without a shadow of a doubt who had killed them.

"No… this isn't real… this isn't real…" Marc fell to his knees and clutched at his head. He began to shake, tears stinging his eyes. "This never happened… I didn't kill them… this didn't happen… I-"

"Oh, and that makes you any less guilty?"

Marc froze, a terrified shiver running down his back. Suddenly the scene before him pulled away and he was at the Dragon Table. Violet torches cast long shadows. Looming before him was the black, obsidian throne. Seated on it was a figure cloaked his shadow. His hood was up, eyes like embers burning deep inside.

_Grima._

A cold laugh echoed the chamber, the sound turning the very blood in Marc's veins to ice.

"How noble and courageous of you, Marc. You didn't kill your little friends. What a hero," Grima mocked, a faintest glimmer of white teeth flashing from within shadow. "I'm sure the countless others you killed can rest easy knowing you value the lives of your friends greater than theirs"

Something was different about Grima's voice. Before it had been his father's voice behind the hood, but now… now it sounded like several others were speaking in unison. One of them, cold, raspy, inhuman, had to be the Fell Dragon's true voice. But the other…

The other sounded like his own voice. As if he was part of him.

_This isn't real. Remember, this isn't real! This isn't Grima. It's just a shadow. Don't let him get to you,_ a voice in Marc's head screamed again and again. Urging him to stand, to do something. But he couldn't will himself to move, his entire body frozen with fear.

Grima's shade stood, wisps of smoky shadows rolling around him. "Really, I am surprised they can even look you in the eye, knowing what you did," he continue. Descending the steps, the shade began to circle around him and sneered. "And we both know how much you enjoy it. The killing. How powerful it makes you feel."

"I-I'm not… I'm not afraid of you," Marc stammered. At last he willed himself to stand, a hand gripping Falchion's hilt. The blade range out as he drew it, point aimed at Grima. His hands were shaking, the entire length of the weapon trembling.

"Oh, are you now? Your expression says otherwise." Grima laughed. "Honestly, I am surprised how easy it was to manipulate you. To play into your doubts and fears. I would have thought you stronger than that. Then again, you always were a disappointment."

_Don't listen to him, he's just trying to get to you. Don't let him! _Marc told himself, trying to steady his hands.

Grima's footsteps echoed through the chamber as he continued to circle him. "Yes… you were always quite the disappointing servant. A weak spell caster. A average tactician. Ever the failure. Nothing like your sister. If it wasn't for the leverage you provided over her, I would have done away with you long ago," Grima taunted.

"Y-Your… your taunts aren't about to scare me," Marc managed. He swallowed, trying to sound brave. "Mother and Father killed, you're nothing but a shadow. And I-I'm going to finish the job."

"Are you now?" Grima asked. He stopped, turning to face Marc fully now. His entire stance seemed to change, seeming to loom over Marc, his entire body radiating a barely contained menace. "Of course, you came here to destroy me. I don't know what's funnier, thinking you could possibly make up for your mistakes..."

Grima's eyes flashed, flames flickering in the depths of his cowl. Then in an instant he'd closed the gap between them. A sword had appeared in his hand, it taking a second for Marc to register that it was looked just like Falchion, or at least, how Falchion had appeared during his time as Grima's servant.

Marc swept Falchion up to intercept Grima's attack just in time. Sparks rained down on his head, his knees nearly buckling under the force of the blow. Before he could recover Grima was already launching his next attack, moving far faster than any normal human could. Again and again their blades met, Marc barely managing to keep up. Time and time again he thought Grima would break through, only to make it just in time to stave off certain death. Each close call brought fresh pangs of fear. He couldn't keep up. Grima would kill him. He couldn't keep up!

As if from far away Marc heard his mother's voice speaking from some half-remembered memory of his training with her. "_Do not let fear control you. Concentrate. Focus on what needs to be done."_

Narrowing his eyes, Marc poured his entire focus into his own movements, ignoring everything besides himself and his foe. It didn't matter how close each blow came, all that mattered what that he was still alive.

For what felt like an eternity their blades met, metal gleaming in the pale light. Stepping in, their blades met in a final clash. Grima bore down against him as he strained with all his might to hold his ground. Grima pressed forward, Marc's back foot sliding along the smooth floor. A taunting smile flashed from the shadows of Grima's hood.

"Naga didn't tell you did she? That if you fail your body will be mine for the taking!" Grima laughed, Marc's eyes going wide with shock. In this moment of hesitation Grima acted, shoving Marc back with a burst of strength. He faltered a step, desperately trying to keep his balance.

"Don't you worry, when I'm in control I'll see to your family. Even if I lack the strength to kill them, they will never be able to lift a finger against their son!" Grima shouted, swinging his blade before Marc could recover. There was a clash of steel and Marc toppled to the floor, skidding back along the polished stone.

Ignoring the pain Marc dragged himself to his feet, his shoulders heaving as he gasped for air.

Again his mother's words echoed in his head. "_Keep control of your breathing. Breathing is the key to remain focused" _Gritting his teeth, Marc forced himself to slow his breath until his chest rose and fell at a steady rhythm.

Reading Falchion , Marc held his ground as Grima launched another string of attacks. Falchion moved in a blur, intercepting each of the Fell Dragon's attacks, nudging them aside so they missed by the narrowest of margins. "_When fighting a foe who is both stronger and faster you must never try to match him head on. Fight defensively, and only strike when an opening presents itself." _The tactic was one of economy of motion, smaller movements fast enough to keep pace with his opponent, while still burning as little energy as possible. While little more than a delaying action, he had no choice but to hold out as long as he could.

_Hold out until Grima make a mistake._

"Give up, you know it is inevitable that you die here. You're nothing but a child. Insignificant. Feeble. Weak. Worthless. To think you ever thought you could beat me!" Grima snarled. For a split second electricity crackled. Then a blast of lightning split the air, Marc barely managing to twist out of the way of the attack.

Dammit, that was close! Marc's heart hammered in his chest. He should have expected something like that. Overconfident as he was, Grima was not above trickery to defeat his foes.

"_Never count on your foes to play fair. And do not consider yourself above deceit when it comes to a battle of life and death."_

An instant later Grima was on him, Marc barely managing to deflect the avalanche of blows. Each impact jarred his arm, forcing him another step back. Grima forced him blade now, than whipped his sword around to hack at Marc's neck. Marc leapt back, narrowly avoiding the slash. He skidded a step on the slick floor. Seeing his advantage, Grima closed the gap. The Fell dragon smirked, so sure of his victory. He saw that Marc was too close to avoid the attack by leaping back or dodging to either side.

A smile tugged at Marc's lips. He'd taken the bait.

Rather then dodge away, Marc stepped towards Grima, throwing himself into a dive. Sailing under the attack, he slashed at Grima's legs. Committed to his own attack, the Fell Dragon could not change directions in time, Falchion's tip drawing a red line.

Bracing himself with a hand, Marc leapt to his feet, whirling to intercept the counterattack Grima hurried to muster against him. In his haste he acted too soon, unable to put his full strength behind the blow. And that left Grima open. Transferring his weight into Falchion's tip, he drove Grima's blade down. Before the Fell Dragon could react he twisted back around, slashing at his shoulder with every ounce of strength he had. Falchion fell in a blinding arc- and deflected harmlessly off of Grima, not even so much as cutting his clothes.

Marc staggered a step, eyes wide in shock. _No. No, no no no, no!_ Pain blossomed in his stomach as Grima drove a knee into his gut, doubling him over. Silver flashed in the corner of his vision, Marc managing to heft Falchion just as the blow fell. Metal screeched, the force of the impact tossing him to the floor.

Gasping, Marc rolled over, clutching at his side. Something was broken, he was sure of it. His eyes caught on Falchion, lying just out of reach before him. It's blade dull and lusterless. _Why? Why now?! _Marc felt hot tears burn down his cheeks. A single sob wracked him. In the moment he'd needed it most, Falchion had failed him.

A cold laugh cut through the haze of pain. Marc frozen, his breath catching in his throat.

"Truly, you are nothing but a helpless child. What's that? Are you crying? Upset Falchion finally realized you're unfit to wield it," Grima taunted. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not that I blame it's choice. Anyone would have been better. Your sister, your aunt, or maybe even your cousin. All are far more worthy than a murderer like you."

Marc's shoulders began to shake, his vision blurring. He thrust himself upright"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he screamed, so loudly that his throat burned raw. He thrust himself upright, summoning up every ounce of his rage and frustration into a single shout.

"Thoron!"

For an instant blinding light obliterated Marc's vision. The chamber shook with the force of the explosion. The floor cracked, an explosion of dust and pulverized stone rolling like a wave from the spot Grima has been standing an instant before. But that wasn't enough, that would never be a enough now. _He'd pay, he'd pay, he'd pay for all of it!_

"Arcfire! Elwind! Arcthunder! Thoron!" He screamed again and again, launching spell after spell in a blind fury. He'd kill him! He'd kill him if it was the last thing he did!

Slowly the dust began to settle in the wake of Marc's final spell, everything falling still. His shoulder rose and fell in ragged gasps. Pain split his skull with each breath he took, his vision darkening with each throb. He clutched his chest, realizing only then intensity of the burning sensation. He limbs felt numb. He swayed and nearly toppled over.

A chuckle split the silence. Through the fading cloud materialized Grima. His hand was outstretched, a shimmering half-sphere of violet lighting thrumming with unseen power. If he had been harmed at all by Marc's attacks he showed no sign. Not even the edge of his coat had been burned.

"I must say, I did not expect you to act this stupid." Grima shook his head, an amused smile curling at his lips. "Even a novice mage knows that throwing spells like you did without giving your time to recover can prove incredibly taxing. Fatal, even. Honestly, I'm surprised you're even still conscious from that little display."

Marc could only continue to gasp for air. The pain in his skull had gotten worse, so that even remaining standing.

"I could have sworn I taught you better, Marc. Ever the disappointment. Your sister, she would never have made that particular mistake. Not that she would be in quite as bad a shape as you are now. She was always much better than you at this," Grima mocked. Footsteps rang out in a slow, steady beat. Grima's smile glinted white from the veil of his hood. "Then again, you of course know all of that. Afterall, this _is_ your head we're in. Says a lot about how desperate you must be."

"I… I…" Marc gritted his teeth. "I… Arcfire!" A gout of fire burst from Marc's hands, washing over him in a tide of crimson flame.

Another laugh. Grima continued towards him through the fading embers, untouched by the spell.

A groan escaped Marc's lips. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor. He could barely breath. He could barely think. Everything was so dark. So… numb...

Without warning a hand seized his throat, hoisting him off the ground. He caught a glimpse of

"So it ends. Inevitable." With a smirk Grima threw him back, Marc landing in a crumpled heap. Out of his darkened vision he watched as Grima kicked Falchion across the floor, the blade sliding within arm's reach.

…_. I can't…. I can't beat him…. I… I'm sorry…. I'm so sorry…. _Reaching out, Marc gripped Falchion's hilt. Ignoring the unbearable agony that came with each move he rose to his feet, shaking with each step, and faced Grima in what he knew would amount to little more than one final act of defiance. Perhaps that's why Grima has kicked Falchion to him, to see if he would.

"I'll make sure to give your family my regards." Grima lifted his hand, his entire form thrumming with power. With a sudden roar a orb a swirling shadow lanced towards Marc. Lightning cracked from it's surface.

Marc could only watch helplessly as the spell filled his entire vision, until it washed over him. Agony burn through every nerve in his body then suddenly… nothing… Dimly he was aware that he was falling back. He barely felt it when he hit the ground.

So he lay there, the world gone in a sea of white. He couldn't move. He couldn't even feel his body. He couldn't even breath. _Mother… Father…. Morgan… I'm sorry…. I'm so…. so…. s…. _As his consciousness began to ebb away he felt something… warm and wet on his face. Was he crying for them? Knowing he'd never see them again.

"Goodbye…" he whispered, letting himself sink into the void.

…

…

…

…

…

"_Ma—"_

What was that?

"_I— can— gi— up. —arc!" _

The voice seemed to cut through the veil of white, soft and gentle.

"_Y— mus—get— up. —elive you can!" _A second voice joined the first, carrying with it both strength and kindness.

He didn't understand, what was going on. He was so tired…. why couldn't he just rest.

"Don't —ive up, —arc. You must not give in."

A warmth seemed to wash over him, flowing through every fiber of his soul. It seemed as though he drifted in a sea of mist. He did not see, but yet somehow was aware of the presence of two others. That voice… it sounded like.

"Marc, please, you must not give up."

Through the ocean of white came he saw them. His parents. But how were they... But no, not as he knew them now. Both were older. He remembered them, so very long ago. Before everything went wrong… His mother wore a dress of shimmering white, his gray robes under his coat. Then as they approached they seemed ripple, and then suddenly they were garbed in the raiments of war. They knelt on either side, helping him up.

"I don't…. I don't… understand…. you died… how…. how… "

"What's there to understand? We've always been here with you. Even if you didn't know it," his mother murmured, brushing his hair from his face. "We never left you. And that is why you must not give up."

"Mother… I… I …" Marc's voice cracked. Fresh tears streamed down his face.

"I wish we had more time, but before Grima will attempt seize control of your body. You must act before he has the chance," his father said.

"But…" Marc shook his head. "He's too strong. I'm not like either of you. I'm weak, and a coward, and-"

"No, no you're not," his mother interrupted, placing a finger on his lips to silence him. She smiled and in that moment Marc could feel it. Feel how proud she felt of him. "You've been through so much pain and darkness, but you never let it change you. You survived it all, because you have a strong heart. You are so much stronger than you realize."

He father gripped his arm, drawing his attention. "Marc, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you too. I tried so hard… I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye." Tears glistened in his father's eyes. "But, even if I can never make amends for that, I can tell you now, how proud I am of you. We couldn't stop Grima, we couldn't give you the future you deserved before. But now… now you can end this. You can put an end to this evil once and for all. Because you're stronger than I ever was. Because you have your mother's spirit. Her bravery. Her compassion. Her determination."

"And your father's heart," his mother whispered. A glow seemed to emanate from their forms as they began to fade. The light washed over him, seeped into him. Love. Love filled the glow. And he knew. Knew he hadn't ever been alone. "Marc, here is no one more worthy of Falchion's legacy. You must believe in yourself, as we believe in you..."

With that their forms dissolved into motes of light. Yet even as they vanished the warmth remained. Because even if he couldn't see them, they would always been there. Always.

…

…

…

…

…

Marc opened his eyes. Before him stood the dragon table just as before. Grima loomed before his, wreathed in flame and shadow, having not yet noticed his stirring. Everything hurt. With a force of will Marc rose to his feet, his hand gripping Falchion.

Grima turned, for an instant shock registering on his face. "You… you still live…" His crimson eyes narrowed, and he sneered. "Not that this little display of continued defiance means anything. You will die."

"No," Marc said, staggering a step towards Grima, his gaze on the floor.

"No?" Grima chucked, clearly amused by his response.

"No," Marc repeated. He took another step. "I understand now… understand what you really are. You're nothing but a bad dream." A flame seemed kindled in his chest. He staggered another step. Falchion began to thrum in his hand, the blade's surface shimmering.

He took another step.

"Cling to whatever hope you wish, it will not save you," Grima spat, anger surging through his voice. Shadows began to swirl around Grima, blotting out all light and he gathered his power for one final attack."Just give up!"

Marc's hand began to tingle as warmth began to radiate up through his arm. It ebbed and flowed with a steady beat, matching the burning in his chest. The two were one. The blade's fiery heart His heart. They were one. The heat surged with each step he took, stronger and faster as he strode towards Grima.

_They believed in him. Believed that he could do this. And now… now he just had to believe it too! _Like the breaking of a dam a surge of power erupted from Falchion's blade. White, ethereal flames danced in a halo around the blade. But they did not seem to burn, but rather merely felt warm. Like the rays of the sun.

With a road Grima unleashed a wave of darkness. It surged towards Marc, smashed into him, and broke like a wave against the rocks, flowing harmlessly around the burning aura seemed to radiate from somewhere deep inside him. Marc continued forward through the wave of shadow, his head still down.

Grima reeled back a step, shock registering on his face. "How how can you-" He snarled, eye catching on Falchion. "You… you think this changes anything. Even with Falchion, your mother could never defeat me alone. And you're nowhere as skilled as she!" Grima bellowed, rage mastering him

"You're right…" Marc said softly, his gaze still on the floor. He took another step "I'm not as skilled with my mother as a blade. And she could never beat you alone..."

"Then why do you resist. Why fight when it's hopeless?

"But she did beat you. She and father beat you. Because _they_ weren't alone. They beat you together." He another step. "I may not be half the swordsman my mother is. But that's okay…. because I'm not her. Because she isn't the only one who raised me…"

Marc took another step, and lifted his gaze to meet Grima's " Because you've forgotten that I'm not just a swordsman. I don't just have my mother's strengths. I have those of both my parents!"

A burst of lightning arched from Marc's fingertips, spitting the air with a crackle of power. As expected Grima lifted his arms to shield himself, blocking the attack with a spell of his own.

But this was what he'd been counting. In an instant Marc closed the distance. So wrapped in defending himself from the spell, Grima barely had time to react launched a flurry of blows. Again and again Falchion collided with it's dark twin, explosions of light flaring with each clash. Each hit forced Grima back step by step, never giving him a chance to recover.

Twisting his blade Marc knocked Grima's arm wide. "Elwind!" Twin crescents of wind sliced Grima across his chest, knocking him further off balance. Falchion clashed twice more, even staggered the Fell Dragon's inhuman speed and strength keeping him in the fight. If he got the chance to recover, he could easily regain favor.

And that's why he couldn't give him that chance.

Leaping back, Marc thrust his hand towards the floor. "Arcfire!" Flames splashed against the stone, fanning out until they completely engulfed Grima.

"You think your pathetic spells can hurt me, I am a god. I am eternal!" Grima screamed a blast of lighting smashing into the spot Marc had been standing in moments before.

But Marc was no longer there. He'd moved, covered by the flames, to attack Grima from the right. Grima whirled, too slow, Falchion's tips slicing across his arm. Grima howled in agony, reeling back. Smoke curled from the wound, his face twisted with rage.

"Elthunder!" A sphere of lighting leap from Marc's palm. Grima ducked to the left to avoid the spell. For but an instant he was left open, which was all Marc needed. He leapt forward, bringing Falchion down with all his might. Grima sluggishly brought his own blade up block. "Igni!" Marc shouted, crimson light erupting as the two blades collided. For a moment he was met with resistance. Then, with a crystalline sound, Grima's sword, the twisted visage of the corrupted Falchion, shattered. Grima reeled back, eye wide. For the first time Marc could ever remember, the Fell Dragon's shade looked afraid.

"For everyone you killed, this ends here!" Marc screamed. With that final shout Marc lunged forward and drove Falchion into Grima's chest.

For a moment no one moved, then Grima shriek in agony, the shrill sound bringing pain to Marc's ears. Cracks began to form all over the fell dragon, liquid shadow pooling from the fissures. All around them the world began to dissolve, breaking away to a sea of blinding light. Then, with a final, horrible howl of defeat, Grima's body shattered. There was a flash and everything went white.

. . . . .

"Marc. Are you there, dear?"

Marc groaned, bright light stinging his eyes through shut lids. With an effort of will he clawed his way through the he clawed his way through the haze of unconsciousness.

He blinked, opening his eyes. He was on his back, his head resting on his mother's lap. She was running her hands through his hair, but stopped as she noticed him stiring.

"Marc," she whispered, her worried expression softening. "Are you alright? I was so worried. I thought we'd lost you several times there."

Groaning again, Marc brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. Carefully he sat upright, his mother helping to support him. Light streamed in through the temple skylights, the sun higher in the sky then he remembered it being. The sun had been setting before, then how...

"How long was I out?" Marc asked. He grimaced, gripping his mother's arm to steady himself.

"All night and most of the morning. We've been dreadfully worried about you," his mother answered.

_We?_

It was then that Marc became aware that Naga loomed next to them, the Divine Dragon's expression unreadable.

"So what happened? Did you do it? Is Falchion…" his mother stopped herself, eyes on Falchion.

"I… I think so. Right?" Marc turned to Naga.

"I do sensed the darkness lurking with Falchion fade some time before you awoke," Naga confirmed, a barest hint of a smile pulling at her mouth. "Let as see the fruits of your labor."

Nodding, Marc stood, gripping Falchion by the hilt. Falchion rang as he drew it from its sheath. At once white flames leapt across it's length, humming with power. Marc yelped, nearly dropping the blade in surprise. I_t… it's just like in my dream. But how… _Slowly he inched his free hand closer to the flame, feeling none of the expected heat. He passed a hand through them and it did not burn, only feeling the same radiant warmth he had during the battle with Grima's shade.

Turning he saw a no less surprised look on his mother's face. So too did Naga almost look caught of guard. "I… I don't understand. This happened to Falchion when I was fighting Grima, but I thought it was just, well, something that happened there."

"While I can only speculate on the particular appearance of this effect, I can shed some light as to the cause. When you severed your connection to Grima's twisted spell re-established the bond between you and the blade, Falchion resonated with your soul on a level deeper than I've seen outside of a bearing who has undergone the Awakening," Naga explained. "Even now the blade still sings in unison with your soul, resulting in the visible manifestation of it's power that you now see."

Marc nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the dazzling display. "And the flames?"

"Perhaps they reflect some aspect of your own personality. Or they may be a manifestation of the journey this particular incarnation of Falchion has traveled, from corruption to rebirth." Naga offered, motioning to the blade with an open hand. "It may be for both these reasons, or perhaps none of them."

Marc nodded a second time. He frowned, continuing to eye the weapon.

"You seem troubled," Naga observed.

"I-I was just thinking. After all this, it's hard to believe it's over. That Grima's gone for good, I mean," Marc said, turning to look up at her.

"Do not fear, none of the Fell Dragon's taint remains within Falchion. The shade has been vanquished," Naga assured him.

"Good," Marc whispered. Carefully he returned Falchion to its sheath. Then, well, he didn't really do anything then. He felt dreadfully tired, both physically and mentally. The world had taken on an air of almost unreality, his mind still processing everything that happened.

"You have been left with much to think about. However, it is here that we must make our goodbyes. I have tarried from my sleep far too long. Farewell."

Marc watched on as Naga's form began to dissolve away, growing translucent before fading completely. Soon he and his mother were alone in the temple, the sound of birds chirping reaching them from far off.

"Marc, if you feel ready, I'd like to hear what happened when you confronted Grima's shade," his mother said a last, turning to regard him with the gentle smile. "I understand if you do not wish to speak on it as of yet. I won't push you."

"No. No, it's okay, I can talk about it," Marc assured her. Starting from the beginning he recounted to her everything he encountered upon entering the mental landscape Naga had placed him in, from the grisly scene Grima had shown to him to the battle he fought against the Fell Dragon's shade.

The only detail he omitted was the manifestation of the her and father of his own world. In truth, he still was unsure what to think of that encounter. Had it really been them? He had been in mental realm, one made of his one mind. Perhaps they had been nothing more than manifestations of his own subconscious, telling him what he needed to hear to muster one final effort to defeat Grima. Real or not, that was one experience he wasn't quite ready to reveal. It would perhaps be a very long time before he himself was really sure of his own feeling on it.

Finishing his tale, Marc fell silent. For a long while he said nothing, his gaze on the floor.

"Marc, are you alright?" his mother asked softly. She put a hand on his arm.

Only then did Marc realize he was crying, tears flowing gently down his face. "Yeah. For the first time I think I am." He sniffed, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He managed a smile The pain and guilt was still there, but it no longer felt as keen as it once did. Perhaps it would never completely go away, but for the first time Marc felt as though he could begin to move on and heal. It would not be easy, but, well, as long as he had people who cared about him, he would not have to face that darkness alone.

"I am glad." His mother smiles, squeezing his arm. "I do not say it enough, but I am so proud of you. More proud than you could ever imagine. Marc. My brave little warrior." Brushing his hair aside, she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

"I know you are, Mother. You don't have to tell me that for me to know it," Marc said, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce hug. His chest swelled, feeling as though it was on fire. "Thank you for helping me. It means everything for you to be here with me."

She returned the hug in kind. She brushed his hair aside and, leaning low, kissed him on his forehead. "I could not imagine letting you face this alone." At last she pulled away from him, extending a hand the beckon him to follow. "Let us go and see what the new day brings, shall we? We have a long journey home ahead of us."

"Yeah. Bet farther and Morgan are worried sick of us. Probably shouldn't keep them waiting longer than we have too." Marc grinned, turning to follow her to the stairs leading out of the temple.

Marc stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking back over his shoulder. The light of the morning sun shone brightly from the skylights overhead, casting a golden glow over the entire temple. He stood there, for a moment transfixed by how bright and warm the world seemed. After a second longer he turned away, only to stop in his tracks. Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light, but for the briefest of instants Marc though he glimpsed two figures standing in the golden rays. But by the time he had looked they were gone.

"Marc, are you coming?" His mother called to him from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah. Coming!" Smiling, Marc tore his gaze away from the temple. He hurried up the stairs and into the light of a bright new day.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well guys, we have finally reached the end of the Marc focused arc. I hope you guys enjoyed it and are satisfied with this wrapping up of most of the remaining plot threads from A Future Disowned.

As for next time we return to our regularly scheduled fluff filled one-shots, which will aim to make everyone feel all warm and gooey inside. As always please take the time to leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter, as I really love hearing from you guys. Until next time, cheers!


	23. Snowy Day

**Title: **Snowy Day

**Description: **As the snow falls heavily outside there is nothing better than the comfort of family and a bit roaring fire.

**Notes:** Takes place some time after the Valm arc but before the Fire Emblem chapter 21.

* * *

Lucina shivered, rubbing her hands as she extended them out towards the fireplace. The whistling roar of wind rattled the window frame. Snow swirled in a sea of white, already piled high on the palace's roofs and treetops.

Pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders, Lucina huddled closer to the fire.

The creek of a door opening altered her to Robin's presence, the tactician slipping into her bedroom, two steaming cups of tea in hand.

"It's really coming down, huh?" He observed, handing her one of the teacups.

Nodding in thanks, Lucina took the offered tea, taking a cautious sip from the still scalding liquid. She winced, the tip of her tongue burning and set it aside for the moment. "Yes. I can hardly remember the last time Ylisse saw a storm as great as this. We wouldn't happen to have moved to whole city to Ferox, have we?"

"At least not the last time I checked," Robin grinned, sitting down next to her. Bringing his hands up to his lips, he puffed into them several times before holding them out in front of the fire, turning them several times.

"Good. I was afraid you'd tried something like that to confound our enemies. Only you'd be crazy enough to try to move an entire city just to get a tactical edge," Lucina teased, scooting a bit closer and leaning her head against his shoulder, searching for his warmth.

"You joke now, but just we wait. The next time a army tries to march on Ylisstol their expressions will be priceless." Reaching out he took hold of one of her hands, frowning at her touch. "Lucina, you're freezing. Here." Letting go for a moment he slipped his arm out from the sleeve of his coat. Wrapping his now naked arm around her waist, he draped the free half of his coat over her shoulder and pulled her close. "There, any better?"

"Much," Lucina murmured, nuzzling closer into his side. He felt so warm, as if he himself was fire amongst a sea of ice and snow. Truly, she could sit there with him for an eternity, reveling in his heat and the strength of his arm.

"Probably should get started on that tea before it gets any colder," Robin noted. He eyed the no longer steaming cups.

"Yes. Let's" Lucina said quickly, picking up to cup lest she let his kind gesture of fetching it for her go to waste.

Huddled close together, the two sipped from their tea as they stared into the crackling flames. For a long while neither of them spoke, for there was no need. Instead they simply enjoyed each other's warmth and company as the snow continued to pile outside.

Finishing her tea, Lucina set it aside, curling her now free hand around Robin's. She hummed, content as she rested against his side. This was perfect.

A sudden shadow falling over them was the only warning before they were buried under a heavy woolen cover. Gasping in surprise, Lucina groped at the fabric, attempting to extricate herself from the smothering weight.

"What in the world?" Robin exclaimed. It took them another several seconds the free their heads from the tomb of think cloth that had been wrapped around them. It was at that very moment that the two noticed a strange lump moving under the cover with them, worming and scrambling it's way onto their laps. Of course, they didn't even need to wait for invader to poke her head out into the open to know who was responsible for the cover's sudden appearance..

"Morgan, what are you doing?" Lucina asked, just as their daugher scooted herself between her parents, fidgeting for several moments as she got herself comfortable.

"It's cold and you two are warm," Morgan answered simply, as if it was obvious.

"And I suppose is was impossible to give us a warning?" Robin said. He rolled his eyes, a gesture that was not lost on Lucina. As much as they loved their daughter, her antics could perhaps get a bit grating on occasion.

"Yep!" Morgan said cheekily, flashing each of her parents a big toothy grin.

"Well, what do you think, should we let her join us?" Robin asked, turning his head to her.

"Hmmm…" Lucina hummed, attempting to drown out her answer as if in deep debate. Not that it was particularly effective, for she couldn't help but smile. "Well… she was kind enough to bring us this cover."

"Huh, I suppose she did," Robin said slowly. Like herself, he did nothing to hide his grin.

"Then again, she did act rather rudely in ambushing us as she did… so maybe we shouldn't-"

"Oh come on and just say I can stay already, you both know you will!" Morgan exclaimed, interrupting before they could go any further. She threw up her arms up over her head in exasperation. Or at least, as high as they would go while still buried under the cover.

"Fine… I think we can make an exception this one time," Robin laughed, pushing her arms back down. "However, if you are going to be here with us we might as well do this proper. Morgan, why don't you go pick a book off of the shelf for me to read to you two?"

"Do I have to? It's so warm here," Morgan whined, pressing closer into her parents to illustrate her point.

"Do you want me to read to you or not?" Robin countered, shooting her a questioning look.

Pouting, Morgan gave an indignant puff, but otherwise did as she was told. Vanishing under the covers, she crawled out from the edge a moment latter and scrambled over to the bookshelf off in the corner of the room. Scanning the shelf for a couple seconds, she selected a large, heavy tome wrapped in brown leather before returning to to their spot in from of the fireplace.

Taking the book from their daughter, Robin scanned the cover and smiled. "Good choice," he said, carefully peeling back the cover to the first pace.

Smiling contently, Lucina made herself comfortable, wrapping an arm around Morgan to tuck the two of them as close to Robin as she was able. The howl of the wind and snow seemed so distant now, the frigid cold forgotten as the three huddled comfortably together and listen to the story Robin began to account of ages long past.

Let the snow fall and the wind howl. For here and now she felt warm and loved.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So I wanted to do something vaguely Christmas themed, but as I figured just having Christmas exist in the Fire Emblem verse (with it's completely own religion and such) would be a tad bit of a stretch, I figured going for a winter themed story would be best. I hope you guys enjoyed this bit of fluffy fluff after the long more serious arc that has consumed the past couple months.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think. Until the next one, have a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays


	24. Dancing Lessons

**Title: **Dancing Lessons

**Description:** When its comes to having good childhood memories, both Robin and Lucina rather got the short end of the stick. Amnesia and growing up in a hellish future can do that. So it's always nice to indulge in the things that missed out on now that they finally have the chance.

**Notes: **Takes place after the events of Awakening and the two years Robin was dead, during the two month period prior to _A Future Disowned._ Request by **_ajani's apprentice_**

* * *

Robin frowned, picking a twig out of his hair.

_Damn Morgan and her pit traps. _

To give her some credit, this was the first time she'd actually gotten him, if only through brute force. As far as he could tell, she'd dug dozens of the damn things in the hopes that he'd miss one. He had, in the end, much to Morgan's delight and his own annoyance.

_Could have a least helped me out afterwards. _He fished out another stick, this one with a leaf still attached, from his hair and sighed deeply.

_Let's hope Lucina is having a better day and I am. _

Climbing the stairs that led to the royal family's private quarters, he made his way to his and Lucina's shared room. Yes, her day had almost certainly been better than his. She hadn't decided to go take a walk and get some fresh air only to be stuck in a damn hole in the ground for near as half an hour.

_Dammit, Morgan_, he repeated mentally, forcing himself to breath and calm down.

Reaching the door, he raised his hand to knock on the half open door, then stopped. He smiled, figuring it would be far more fun to surprise his wife with a hug then to enter normally. Slowly as to not make any undue sound he nudged the door open and peered inside.

Inside he was met by a curious sight. Lucina stood in the center of the room, clad in a simple white dress, her hair flowing down over her shoulders. She was only still for a moment, twirling and spinning slowly with purposeful, if clumsy movements. It reminded a bit of the sword forms she had created to accustomed her body for her elegant style of swordplay, but this seemed far less practice.

Wait, was she… dancing?

Yes, now Robin was certain of it. Before his eyes Lucina slowly and stiltedly moved through the steps of what Robin had to guess was a ballroom dance. Her hands were outstretched, clasped around those of a make believe partner. A smile was on her face, a laugh falling from her throat as she stumbled and caught herself just in time. She hadn't noticed him, so enthralled was she by her dance.

"Lucina, what are you doing?" Robin asked, stepping into the room proper.

Lucina jumped at the sound of his voice. Spinning around, her foot caught on the corner of the rug. She stumbled, slipped, and lost her balance, a startled yelp lept from her throat.

At once Robin was at her side, throwing his hands out to catch her before she toppled over.

"Robin, don't surprise me like that," Lucina said. She gave a nervous laugh, and looks away, Robin catching a glimpse of flushed cheeks before they were hidden from view.

"Sorry," Robin said, releasing his grip on her shoulders once she'd regained her footing. "I didn't mean to intrude, I just saw you dancing and I was wondering…"

"Gods you saw?" Lucina gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "I'd hoped no one was around… it must have seemed so childish. And… I wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me?" Robin said. He eyed her, curious. "I don't think I follow, Lucina?"

"I… well, since we're at peace now, I figured it would only be a matter of time before we're invited to take part in a social gathering with the realm's nobility. It is customary for such events to involve dancing and…" She trailed off, frowning. "...I am ashamed to say I never exactly learned how."

Ah, that explained. To be honest, he'd completely forgotten they'd be expected to take part in such a gathering. The last royal ball he'd been a part of has been part of Chrom and Sumia's wedding. He'd kept to himself mostly, having felt rather uncomfortable among the gathering of nobles and other dignitaries. Not to mention being one of the few who'd attended without a partner hadn't bestowed much confidence in asserting himself. "Makes sense I suppose," Robin admitted. "Though I do not see why this would embarrass you."

"Well, you see, I was fearful that once the time came I would embarrass the two of us," Lucina paused, her cheeks flushing pink as she added, "And I must admit I… I was rather excited at the prospect as well. To have this chance to master a skill so normal. I so rarely had the chance to indulge myself with things that did not concern survival or combat." She blushed all the harder now, her hand returning to cover her mouth. It was a gesture that Robin found, frankly, completely adorable.

"It's alright, Lucina. I think it's cute," Robin said, smiling. "Though I must admit, I'm a bit confused. I would have though this is something you'd have learned as a child. Part of your education as a princess, I mean."

"Well, yes, I did a little. But my father, as you're well aware, isn't the biggest one for decorum and ceremony. Between that and the wars… there weren't many royal gatherings growing up," Lucina admitted. "Mother did try to teach me a bit. But, well, you are aware how she is."

Robin could not help but chuckle at that. Yes, Sumia was probably not the best person to be teaching anything that required coordination. "I could imagine. Explains the tripping earlier."

"Robin," Lucina gasped, gripping his arm as she shot him a scolding look.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." He chuckled again.

Lucina opened her mouth as if to say more, than stopped. She tilted her head slightly, her expression growing perplexed as she reached out and picked a twig Robin had evidently missed. "Robin, have you been getting stuck in trees again?"

He sighed. "Not exactly. Morgan finally got me with a pit trap."

"Ah, that explains it then," Lucina said, placing the twig on the corner of Robin's desk.

"Yeah, well, anyways, I hope you don't intend on stopping just because I burst in on you. I'd hate to prevent you from having the chance to indulge yourself with something from your missed childhood. Besides, it's cute to see you enjoying yourself like this."

"Truly? In that case, now that you're here perhaps you can give me some pointers? Lucina asked, blushing all the harder now. Even still, her expression brightened as she gazed at him hopefully.

"I would gladly help you learn. However there is a slight problem," Robin said. He winced as he finished, glancing away.

"Lucina's eyes lit up at his offer, then faded just as quickly with the addendum. "Oh, why is that?" She asked, a twinge of disappointment in her voice.

Now it was his turn to blush. "Well… I don't exactly know how to dance either." He laughed nervously, tugging at the collar of his coat. "I-I may have learned at some point, but with my amnesia it's hard to tell. Afterwards I guess with everything else going on learning how didn't seem like the most pressing matter." He shrugged.

"Oh, I see…" A smile slowly pulled at the corners of Lucina's lip. Then without warning a burning excitement kindled in her eyes. "In that case, we shall learn together. Come," She wrapped her arm around his, pulling him towards the door. "I was embarrassed to ask before, but now that there is two of us we should go see if we can get proper lessons. Perhaps Morgan can convince Inigo to aid us in our quest to master the art of dance."

"Whoa, hold on a minute Lucina. I'm not sure we… I-I am ready for that just yet," Robin stammered. He dug in his heels, keeping her from pulling him any further. "I'd like to get at l-least a little practice f-first. Don't want to embarrass ourselves."

Lucina stopped, turning to look at him. "Ah, fair point. How should we proceed?"

Robin grinned at that question, his own eyes lighting up. "Ah, I have just the thing." Slipping his arm out from crook of Lucina's own, he hurried over to the bookshelves lined with tomes. Scouring the shelves he began pulling books free, examining them quickly before tossing them aside. Where was… ah ha, there! He pulled the book from the shelf, already leafing through it as he returned to Lucina.

"Robin, is that a manual on ballroom dancing?" Lucina asked. She stood up on the tips of her toes to peer over his shoulder at the detailed diagrams and illustrations that adorned the pages.

"Well, yeah." He looked up, the confusion in her voice rather perplexing to him in it's own right. "Is there a problem?"

"No. I am just surprised you own such a book. I suppose a tactician must come prepared for everything, do you not?" Lucina asked. She giggled, shaking her head with obvious amusement.

"You never know when stuff like this can prove useful. At any rate I've had to relearn quite a bit in the past couple years, so I've been collecting every book I can to help me," Robin said, grinning all the wider. He thumbed through a couple more pages. "So, this here doesn't look too hard. Let's start here and then we can…"

**. . . . .**

"So… this is way harder… than I thought it would be," Robin wheezed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

"I agree… I didn't think it was possible to get this sore from something so unassuming," Lucina concerned, plopping onto her back next to him.

Robin laughed, the sound becoming something more akin to a groan.

They'd been at it for several hours and to mixed success. Their early attempts had consisted mostly of tripping over each other's feet and the occasion bout of toppling to the ground after being entangled with one another. After the first mishap they'd wisely decided to move the furniture off to one side. Lucina had even swiped pillows and covers from the other bedrooms to pad all of the sharp corners.

"Still, I think we did a good job, all things considering, did we not?" Lucina asked, giving a chuckle if her own.

"No now. Too sore to answer." Robin laughed painfully, waving a hand in front of him halfheartedly.

"But, wasn't that an answer?" Lucina asked.

"Too sore too think, apparently." Robin chucked, grinning.

"In that case… you won't be prepared for this!" Lucina shouted. Without warning, the princess sprung upright, snatching one of the pillows up and flinging it at his face.

"Ow, Lucina!" Robin yelped, throwing up his arms just in time to shield his head from a second projectile. Grasping for the first pillow, he threw it back at her, managing to clip her shoulder.

Before he could follow up the attack Lucina was on him, shoving a pillow against him in front her to cushion her impact as she threw her weight into them. Losing balance, Robin toppled to one side, grabbing her as he fell to pull her down with him. The couple landed in a tangled heap, laughing all the way.

"I'm sorry, I do not know what came over me," Lucina managed at last as their laughter began to fade. She was laying on top of him, her head resting against his chest. "Gods, that was so childish of me."

"Hey, no need to apologies. If anything we should do this more often," Robin said, wrapping his arms around her.

"In that case, I rescind my apology." She beamed at him, lifting her head to kiss him lightly upon the lips.

"So, Lucina, do you think we're ready for lessons after this?" Robin asked, kissing her in return.

"Hmmm, maybe we should wait longer. Get more practice in, just the two of us?" Lucina blushed as she finished. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn her tone had taken on an almost flirtatious edge.

"Of course." Robin smiled, blushing too. He stood, helping Lucina up with him. Then, taking a long step back offered his hand for her. "Matter of fact, I think I have another attempt or two in me. Shall we?"

"Let's" Lucina said. She took his hand by the tips of her fingers, once more awkwardly following the steps of the ballroom dance the book had described. It wasn't perfect, but nothing really was. And really, that's what practice is for, right?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the long delay on this one, much of my time writing was spent pumping out little oneshots for a Robin x Lucina week event going on over on tumblr. I actually plan to post them over here too, just going to expand them a bit into full fledged one-shots, so the next couple chapters should be a bit quicker.


	25. Regretful Judgement

**Title: **Regretful Judgement

**Description: **After confronting Robin with the intent to kill him, Lucina has been avoiding him. For how could she look him in the eyes after that? Even if he forgives her, how can she forgive herself for what she'd almost done?

**Note:** Spoiler for Chapter 21 of Fire Emblem Awakening.

* * *

Lucina stifled a gasp as she spotted Robin round a group of tents. His didn't seem to notice her, his eyes distant and forehead lined with worry. Averting her gaze Lucina ducked behind a tent, her heart racing. She listened for Robin's footsteps as he passed. The sound of his boots in the loose desert sand stopped right in front of her hiding place. For a long, tense moment he did not move. Then, slowly his footsteps continued, growing more distant before fading out of her range of hearing.

Lucina released her pent up breath in a deep sigh. She can't keep doing this; avoiding him like this. She hung her head, shamed by her actions. _But… _she winced, squeezing her eyes shut. _How can I after… after… _

After she'd tried to kill him.

She'd acted rashly, she knew she had. After finding out her suspicions were true, that Robin had been the one to kill her father in her own time… She'd assumed he was ever since she first came to the past. Before then, even. Afterall, she'd been told by the handful of the then surviving Shepherds that he'd been killed by his best friend, and who else could that be but the tactician she'd always remembered seeing at her father's side. So she watched him carefully ever since she'd joined with the Shepherds in the past, found excuses to spend as much time near him as she could. It was then that she got to know the real Robin, saw how kind, gentle, and caring he was. When she developed feelings for him. She couldn't believe it, deciding there must have been a mistake, for she could not fathom how the man she'd come to know and admire could have done such a heinous thing.

_Unless someone else made him do it. _

Finding out Validar could control him, she had realized at once must what have happened. Realized it would happen again. And she could stop it here and now. Save her father and avert the terrible future before it began.

And all she had to do was kill the man she loved.

Even before confronting him on that field she'd felt her heart shatter. Why? Why was she doing this? She loved him, more than anything in the world. Hadn't she wanted nothing more than to have a future _with_ him, not without? To grow old together. To have a family? Yet no matter how much she cared for him, she couldn't let her heart get in the way of her duty, could she? She told him as much, her task meant putting the sake of the whole world above any one person.

Yet, standing before him, Falchion's tip aimed at his heart, she couldn't bring herself to strike. Hearing him accept her judgment, to open himself with arms spread wide, it had nearly broken her. Then he'd asked, no, pleaded that she find someone else to love her. He'd begged to know she would be happy, that he could die without regrets as long as he knew she would be alright. Her resolve had crumbled then, and she'd found herself wrapped in his arms, sobbing and begging for his forgiveness. He'd forgiven her at once, said he didn't blame her. But, even still…

How could she forgive herself?

"I… I don't know what to do," Lucina whispered. She wrung her hands, staring in the direction Robin had gone.

No, that was a lie. She knew exactly what she should do. She should go to him. She couldn't keep avoiding him like this. He must think she hated him, think she can't even look at him knowing what he did.

Sucking in her breath she squared her shoulders, mustering every ounce of courage she possessed. She needed to be strong, for his sake. Setting off into the camp it wasn't long before she found him, sitting along, far away from the others. He stiffened, noticing her approach.

"Robin," Lucina whispered, stopping a foot away. She extended a hand towards him but froze, his fingers hovering just above her arm.

"Lucina," Robin said, looking up at her now. Pain was in his eyes and he averted his gaze the instant it met her own. Guilt flooded Lucina and she cursed her own cowardliness. She'd let her inability to forgive herself hurt him.

"Robin, I'm so sorry. I've been avoiding you and it's wrong and… I need you to understand, I don't hate you. I just can't-" Lucina's words were cut short as Robin lifted his hand, closing it around her outstretched hand.

"It's okay, Lucina, I… I understand. I was just about to apologies too. I've been avoiding you as well. I figured you didn't want to see me, knowing that I…" he trailed off, leaving the reason unspoken.

"Robin, it's not anything like that. I was afraid. Afraid to look at you after what I tried to do," Lucina whispered.

"It's okay, I don't blame you," he dipped his head, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing them gently. "No more running away from our problems, okay? Your father's right, we need to face this. Together."

"Together," Lucina whispered. For the first time since she'd confronted him that word sounded real. So much remained uncertain, the fight with Validar mere days away. But Robin was right, no matter what happened, they must face it, hand in hand.

* * *

**Author's Note: **One of the more requested topics for me to cover has been Lucina's Judgement scene, but to be honest, I can't really think of anything to add to the scene. I just like it how it is in the game. However, since people really wanted to see it I decided to instead go the route of exploring the aftermath of the scene, as seen in the above oneshot. I hope this proved a satisfying alternative than to address the scene directly.


	26. No Matter What the Future Holds

**Title: **No Matter What the Future Holds

**Description: **Working up his courage, Robin prepares to admit his feelings to Lucina. But can he bring himself to take that leap? And does she love him back?

**Note:** Retelling of Robin and Lucina's S-Support conversation. Takes place a few days after Chapter 8: Touch of Another's Hand

* * *

Robin ducked out of sight behind a line of tends. His heart hammered and he clutched the bouquet of flowers he'd picked all the tighter. Had she seen him? He wasn't ready yet, he still needed time. Time and to be alone, without anyone watching. Anyone to judge him.

After several long tense moments of nothing happening, Robin slowly peeked out from his hiding place. Just ahead he spied Lucina, the princess having neither slowed nor turned her head. Good, she hadn't seen him. He…

He was such a damn coward...

Again a confusion of thoughts tore through Robin's mind. Why was he doing this? What would she say? Was it even worth it? Why could he just do this and get it over with?

"I.. I just can't keep lying to her, lying about how I feel…" Robin whispered, his shoulders slumping. He wasn't quite sure how long he's held feelings for the beautiful blue haired princess…. no, that was a lie. He'd been attracted to her since she'd first joined the Shepherds. Before that even. But she was the daughter of his best friend, and from the future. Things would were too complicated between them for it to work.

Yet try as he might he couldn't get her out of his thoughts. He cared about her. Cared about her more than he'd cared about anyone else, even Chrom or any of his other friends. He…

He loved her.

Robin's face turned red as he remembered the incident but days before, when he'd talked with Lucina late into the night and without realizing it had reached out to her and brushed his hand against hers. Despite his embarrassment he still remember the feel of her touch, the memory sending a tingle running through his hand.

It was in that moment that he knew he was doomed, knew that he was part the point of no return. No matter what happened he could no longer change the way he felt about her. No longer go back to seeing her as just a friend.

That's why he had to tell her. Regardless of if she returned his feeling or not she deserved to know. To know why he'd been acting so strange and awkward around her.

Tucking the bouquet behind his back, Robin followed after Lucina as she wound through the maze of tents that was the Shepherds' camp. If she'd noticed him then, she showed no sign, her attention ahead of her. It struck Robin just how much her demeanor had changed in the past few months. When she'd joined them she'd always seemed to tense, almost twitchy, constantly looking over her shoulder, freezing at every unexpected noise. But now she looked comfortable with her surroundings, at ease. As if she'd come to fully trust all of them.

Breaking away from camp, Lucina climbed her way up one of small hills that dotted the grassy landscape they'd made their camp. Now Robin did not move to follow, keeping his distance lest she notice him trailing him.

_Go talk to her, idiot. She's your friend, you can just talk to her instead of acting like some obsessed stalker, _a voice in his head urged, taking on a sarcastic edge as it finished. Robin tensed, clutching the bouquet of flowers behind his back tighter. He felt his hands shake and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"This is stupid. She's my best friend's daughter for Naga's sake. Even if she is my age, she can't possibly feel the same way..." Robin murmured under his breath. "For Naga's sake, she knew future me growing up, probably sees me as an uncle or..." Robin grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut He couldn't do this. Dammit he couldn't do this. What if he made this weird? What if she didn't want to talk with him after this? Maybe he should give this up, or at least forget admitting how he felt. He could just give her the flowers as a friend right.

Opening his eyes, he saw that Lucina had moved out of sight. Sighing, Robin began to turn away, only to stop himself. No, he got this far. He couldn't give up. Steeling his nerves with a deep breath, Robin started up the hill the way Lucina had gone.

_You can do this, you can do this, you can do this,_ the words became a chant as he repeated them again and again. Crossing the hill's crest he spied Lucina seated on the other side, her eyes fixed on the setting sun. A soft smile was at her lips, her expression serene. For a moment Robin stood transfixed. It was so rare to see her like this, to see her just… happy. Gods, he wished nothing more than to be able to make her happy like this all the time, to give her a world where she could live in peace without the weight of her duty or the looming specter of her doomed future.

Tearing his gaze away, Robin checked that the flowers were still in place behind his back. Then he cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Hello, Lucina," he greeted, the princess turning at the sound of his voice.

"Robin? Fancy meeting you here. Did you come to watch the sunset too?" Lucina asked, her smile broadening as she gazed up at him.

"Yes, I…" Robin's voice caught in his throat, his ability to make words failing him. _Tell her! Give her the flowers and stop making excuses_! He swallowed audibly, struggling the regain his composure. "Actually, I followed you. I, er...wanted to give you these," he admitted lamely. He averted his gaze, awkwardly extending the bouquet to her. _Smooth, real smooth. Looks like we have a real lady killer here. Good going, Robin._

"Oh, Robin! Did you pick flowers for me?" She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. Reaching out she accepted the offered bouquet. She brought them to her nose, closing his eyes as she took in a deep breath. Her expression softened, becoming more serene and blissful than Robin ever remembered seeing here. "They're absolutely beautiful, and they smell heavenly!"

"...I-I'm glad you like them," Robin stammered, managing to tear his eyes from the ground to glance her way before looking away once more. He felt his cheeks darken with embarrassment, unsure what to do now.

If Lucina noticed the awkwardness of his actions, she showed no sign, continuing as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. "We have no flowers in my world. The whole land is barren," she explained. For a moment her smile faltered, then she shook her head as if banishing the grim thoughts from her mind. "...But enough of that. Tell me, Robin, what are we celebrating?" She asked, her smile returning.

_Tell her. Tell you damn fool,_ the voice at the back of his skull urged. Robin felt his heart seized in his chest, the world seeming to fall still. "I… I just…" He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry. "N-Nothing, really. I just thought you could use some cheer."

_Coward. Coward. Coward,_

Lucina's cheeks turned a slight shade a pink and she averted her gaze. "You really shouldn't worry about me so…"

"I…" Robin started, trying to form the words to tell her, to just tell her all ready. But every time he tried, every time he started to… doubt reared it's ugly head and his resolve broke. What if she said no? What if he offended her by asking. Her friendship meant so much to him, what if he ruined it. "I… It's no trouble... I... You're a dear friend, and I want to do anything I can to help."

Robin fell silent. He squeezed his eyes shut. Why? Why couldn't he do this? For the first time in his life he… he wanted something. He… he loved her, wanted to be with her. Every since he could remember, short of a time as that may be, he'd just passively let everything pass him by.

Didn't he deserve to be happy? Didn't he? Even… even if he didn't, he couldn't keep this up. Lucina, deserved to know the truth…

"Lucina I…" his voice cracked, his words dying at his throat for a moment before he pushing onward, forcing the words to come. "Lucina, I'm not being entirely honest. You **are** dear to me, of course, and the daughter of a true friend. But… I…"

"But...?" Lucina asked, her expression going from perplexed to apprehensive in a single instant. Faintly he heard her breath catch in her throat, noticed the way her body went tense and rigid,

Robin opened his mouth, but no words came. He swallowed and tried again. No words game. He began to slip, tumbling back into the pit of his doubts. _He couldn't do this. What if he… he…_

_No._ He seized hold of his resolved, failing for the brink. Words came faster than before, not giving himself the chance to search for any more excuses. "But you are more than that. Much more! I didn't pick that bouquet to cheer you up. I did it because... Because I'm in love with you."

"What?" Lucina asked, her eyes going wide in shock. Her hand shot to her mouth, covering her gaping jaw.

Regret seized Robin at once, but he continued on regardless. It was too late now, too late to take it back. He owed her an explanation at least. She deserved to know why. "Lucina, I've fallen helplessly in love with you! I tried not to, but I couldn't help it! You've been through so much, so many hardships, yet you've remained strong throughout all of it. Despite everything you're kind, brave, and selfless. You're amazing, Lucina. and I…"

He swallowed hard, his throat again painfully dry. His face burned as if ablaze, yet he pushed forward, letting the words continue forth. "... and I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, above anything else. I know I probably can't do that for you. I know that. But I want it nonetheless."

"Robin…" Lucina whispered, his voice slipping out from between her fingers. She tugged the bouquet against her chest, her expression becoming one Robin didn't expect. Disbelief was there, but so too did he see awe and fear; as if she could scarcely believe what was was hearing. As if she'd never expected to hear him speak those words.

"We've been through so much, and I know many trials still await us... I don't know if you feel the same way but... But no matter what happened or is yet to come, my feelings cannot change! I love you, Lucina. With all my heart. I just want you to know that…" He trailed off lamely, averting his gaze.

There, he'd done it. Now she knew. He stood there, nearly shaking with fear as he awaited her answer. He knew what she'd say: she'd tell him she didn't feel as he did. All he hoped is that she was not offended, that she wouldn't hate him. If she did… he didn't know how he could face himself after that.

"Robin, I…"

Robin opened his eyes, hesitantly turning to look back the princess. As he watched Lucina's hand fall away from her lips, dropping down to her chest to grip the bouquet along with her other. Her expression softened, yet her breath seemed to have quickened, as her her heart was racing. It was then he noticed that her hands were shaking, the visible knuckles on her hands white.

" I... I'm so glad you told me all this. ...Because you are in my heart as well." She smiled as she finished, her turning a delicate shade of pink.

..

"I… you…" The entire world seemed to freeze, stuck in time. Now Robin was sure his heart had stopped. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think! Much less form the words to respond. "I-I.. y-you… I… y-you do?" He stammered, his mouth hanging open.

Lucina's smile deeped at this. The she giggled. The sound was so unexpected Robin almost had to do a double take. It was so… beautiful, so light and full of happiness, his heart leapt at the very sound. "I never though… never imagined you felt the same way. I still can scarcely believe this is not a dream," she shook her head from side to side, as if to brush aside her own surprise. "I happy though. More happy than you can imagine…" She sniffed, and for a moment her eyes seemed to glisten as her gaze met his.

In that moment, in that one look all doubt in Robin's heart was washed aside. She felt the same way that he did. She truly did! Even in his hopes he'd scarcely believed it would have been possible. And he wasn't dreaming. This was real.

"Truly? Oh, those are… those are the sweetest words I've ever heard! he managed, overwhelmed by all of it. He laughed, suddenly overtaken by a giddy lightheadedness.

Acting on instinct he reached out and gently pulled one of Lucina's hands away from the bouquet. She followed his motion, her fingers curling around his hand even as he did the same. His skin tingled at the touch. He couldn't believe this was really happening. "Lucina, I can't pretend to know what the future holes, but I promise you, no matter what: I will be here for you. Whatever road you choose to follow, I shall follow it at your side. To whatever end awaits us, I'll do everything in my power to ensure that your future is a happy one."

"And we won't rest until we reach that end. Together." Lucina proclaimed in agreement.

For a long awhile they stood there, hands intertwined with one another, staring into eachother's eyes. Hours seemed to pass, though it could not been more than a couple minutes. Then Lucina's smile lessened ever so slightly, an uncertain nervousness tinting her features. "So...um… what do we do now? Now that we're… uh… together, I mean," she said, quickly correcting herself.

"Well we…" Robin stopped, realizing he didn't actually have the faintest idea what they were supposed to do now. He'd been so wrapped up in finding the courage to tell her how he felt, he hadn't given any thought to what may come after. _Ha, some tactician I am, failing to plan for every eventuality_. "I… uh… don't really know to be honest. I haven't exactly, well, done this before. Being in a relationship," he clarified, blushing.

"Oh, I see…" Lucina said. His as her cheeks flushed her smile returned. "Well, I suppose… if neither of us know… we will just have to figure it out together, do we not?"

"No doubt," Robin agreed a nervous laugh escaping his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck, uncertain what to say. "I guess for now we could just watch the sunset. Together, I mean. If you want to."

"I would like that very much, Robin," Lucina answered, joy sparkling in her eyes as she gazed at him.

Hand still wrapped around hers, Robin moved to her side to face the setting sun. Even in the dying light the sun's rays washed over him with a radiant warmth. Even though the darkness of night would soon fall there was a promise there that the light would return in a morning yet to come. A new, fresh dawn that he and Lucina would share, for the first time, together.

Robin squeezed her hand tighter, reveling in the softness of her skin and the warmth of her touch. But most of all he basked in the comfort of her presence. His friend. His love.

He'd felt something new that day, something he'd feared he'd never get to experience. Robin knew what it felt to love someone, and know they loved you back.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Happy Valentines Day everyone. I figured a good way to celebrate would be to bit of romantic Robin x Lucina fluff. A lot of people have been requesting me do a retelling of how the two got together, but as I really like the S-Support as it I decided to instead focus on what Robin was thinking and feeling during it rather than make any major changes. That and expand it a bit by adding some stuff to the start and the end. Overall I though this was fun.

In case you guys are wondering, with Fates coming out next week I have no plans of stopping LAT. I will continue ton write Robcina fluff long into the future, trust me. Well, that's not wholly true. The updates might slow as a result of another Robin x Lucina centric story I have in the works. Can't give any specifics now, but keep your eyes out.

As always let me know what you guys think. Hearing back from you always makes my day.


	27. Ruins Adrift in Time

**Title:** Ruins Adrift in Time

**Description:** Travelers have reported seeing strange lights and ghostly apparitions from the Ruins of Time. Concerned about such anomalies being seen in a location where the fabric of time and space is at it's weakest, Robin and Lucina go to investigate.

**Notes:** Takes place two months Following the events of _A Future Disowned_ and the events of chapters 18-22, _A Future Undone_.

* * *

Kneeling down Robin brushed aside the dust that caked the single rune set into the silvery blue stone. The unreadable symbol, an artifact from a long forgotten language, glinted in the dim, overcast light. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he worked his glove free with his teeth, ignoring the bitter taste of the old leather. Tugging his hand free at last, he pressed his naked palm against the smooth surface. Despite the frigid air the hung over the ruins, air cold enough for his breath to appear as white puffs of smoke, the stone felt slightly warm to the touch, as if radiating heat from some unknown source. So too did the shallow water that surrounded the winding stone paths seem to remain free of the cold north's icy grip, the still mirror pool free of ice.

"Find anything?"

Robin looked back over his shoulder to where Lucina stood a few feet away. She was wrapped in many layers topped by a thick fur lined cloak and a scarf wrapped tightly around her face. More layers, if fact, than he himself wore, though for good reason. Not only was her own warmth a concern, but so was it for the two children that had been growing inside her for four months now.

Even with the extra protection and the spells he'd cast on both of them to shield them from winter's bite, the cold's effects could not fully banished. Lucina wrapped her arms more tightly around herself, shivering as another gust of wind passed through the maze of stark ruins.

"Not yet." Robin sighed. Returning his glove to his hand, he stood, turning back to her. "Are you alright? You should have stayed back in Regna Ferox with Lissa and Lon'qu. The cold might be-"

"-is nothing I can't handle, Robin. Besides, I wasn't going to let you trek out here all on your own," Lucina finished for him, flashing him a gentle, reassuring smile.

Robin began to argue, then stopped himself. It was too late now to do anything but trust in his wife's judgement. Even still, he was worried about her. "Right… I'll try to make this quick regardless. Figure out what's been causing these 'ghost sightings'."

Even as he referred to the reports in such a frivolous manner, he couldn't help feel uneasy. Only a couple week ago had the accounts reached Ylisstol: tales of strange lights and sounds coming from the ruins. The few who had ventured in to investigate had returned with stories of strange visions, apparitions of people or objects appearing and disappearing at random. He would have simply written it off as superstition if not for the frequency of these incidents. And, well… the nature of this particular place meant that he could not dismiss such accounts lightly.

"Do we have any idea what's causing these sighting?" Lucina asked, as if she'd been reading his very thoughts.

Robin shook his head. "If we did I'd have a much better idea what we're looking for. Though whatever's causing it can't be good."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since Morgan turned up here four… I guess almost five now, years ago I began researching the ruin's origins. From what I managed to find out, this was one the site of a city-state that existed over five-thousand years ago. The few scattered accounts claim it was founded as a sanctuary for mages to study away from persecution or interference from the outside world, only to be destroyed in a magical cataclysm of unknown origin. Just about every book I could find mentioning the subject seemed to have its own theory, ranging from an experiment gone wrong to divine punishment."

Robin paused, shrugging his shoulders. "In the end it's doesn't really matter what the cause was. What's important is that this event was so devastating it weakened the very fabric of reality. Time doesn't seem to operate on the same rules here: it's easier to peer through time or into other worlds even. But if people are seeing things here without the use of magic, then it could mean that something is disturbing the barrier between this world and others.

"Could this have something to do with myself and those from my world passing into this one?" Lucina asked, frowning.

"It's possible, but I can't say for certain." Seeing the concerned look on his wife's face deepening, he quickly forced a smile on his face, adding, "if anything, it would have been all of us traveling to Morgan's world to have caused any of this. These anomalies didn't start until after we came back."

Lucina nodded, but still did not appear wholly convinced.

"Look, even if that was what caused it, we'll figure out how to fix it. Don't you dare think for even a second that coming back was a mistake," he told her, reaching out to grip her shoulder. "None of this was a mistake."

"I could never think that, Robin. You know that. Not after how much you've made my life happier." She placed a hand over her swollen stomach, as if their unborn children were all the proof she needed of this. "It's just… I still can't help but feel I may be responsible. Its fear, not regret, that troubles me."

Robin nodded, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment longer before he turned away. "Come on, let's try another spot."

Slowly the two made their way deeper into the maze of stone paths. Every so often Robin would stop dead in his tracks, catching a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye only for whatever it had been to vanish the instant he looked again. Other times Lucina reacted in much the same way he can, her entire body tensing for a moment before continuing onward.

The further they went the more unease Robin felt. It wasn't just the ghostly glimmers of movement just outside their sight, but the whole layout of the place. It was... wrong, all wrong. The walkways and paths seemed to have shifted from where he remembered them being, sometimes by only a handful of feet, others completely changed.

_Could I be remembering wrong?_ Robin wondered, frowning as he came to another stop. Other than his bout with amnesia, he considered his memory to be quite strong. In most cases he could remember places and experiences with great accuracy. So then, why had his memory failed him here? Or had the whole place really changed someone?

A soft, muffled voice, so faint it could barely be made out drifted in the air.

Robin's entire body tensed, his hand involuntarily grasping for one of his tomes. In that instant the air before him shimmered. For the a fraction of a moment he saw the ghostly images of two people standing before him It was him. It was him and Morgan, playing out a scene from three years past. Before his eyes the translucent Morgan pulled down her hood and threw her arms around his phandom self, the time displaced echo's expression one of utter confusion and shock. Then in a single blink of his eyes the scene dissolved away like a wisp of smoke in wind. Again everything was still as it had been, not another soul within miles other than the two of them.

For a moment Robin stared motionless in the spot. He swallowed, his throat dry and rough from breathing the frigid air. "Lucina, did you see that?" Robin managed at last, his voice hoarse.

"I saw it," Lucina said, her voice almost a whisper. Fresh concern plastered her face, her eyes wide with wonder. "Was this one of the anomalies? Was that when..." she trailed off, letting the question hang unfinished in the air.

Robin nodded. "When I first met Morgan, yes." He stepped forward kneeling in the spot he'd seen the ghostly image. He reaches out, extending his hand out to the spot. He paused an inch away, his hand wavering for an instant before slowly pushing forward. At once the hairs on the back of his hand stood on end, tingles shooting through his fingers. "Woah. This is new. And not good."

"What is it?"

"This anomaly it's…" he paused, unsure how best to describe it. Magic was often difficult to describe in the manner one would speak about phenomenon in the physical world. It was more often than not too abstract, too based on impressions than concrete observations. "It's like there is a crack here, a breach. But, less like on opening and more like time and space is… thinner here. It's hard to explain. It's disrupted the normal flow, to the point that fragments of other times and places are drifting through."

"What?" Lucina asked, shock and confusion plain on her face.

"It's… well…" Robin trailed off, fighting for a good simile. "So you know how most people see time as a linear series of events? Well most of this time this is correct. While different decisions can shape the outcome of a timeline, things still occur linearly." He motioned to her with a hand. "Present time traveling company excluded."

"Yes, you've explained it much like this before. Then what does that have to do with this anomaly?" Lucina asked.

"Well, let's say that time is more like a hourglass, with each moment in time a grain of sand. And this is just one timeline, there are countless others, other words even, all next to each crack is like a crack in the glass separating them. Grains, specific moments in time, might get stuck, like the vision we saw. Flow in and out between timelines entirely," Robin finished, frowning again. "That make sense?"

"Enough of it did," Lucina answered, a smile tugging at her lip for the briefest of moments. Then it faded into worry once more. "So can you fix it? This 'crack in the hourglass' as you put it?".

"Not with my ability. Maybe if I still had Grima's heart but… no, even then this may have been beyond me." Robin frowned, weighing his options carefully. "I might be able to reinforce it through, keep anything from drifting though. Let me give it a try."

Closing his eyes Robin reached deep into the inner well of soul, his very being, tapping into the reserves of power that every magician drew upon. His hand lit up with the sensation of thousands of needles pricking his skin, the breach in the walls of reality itself seeming to throb and pulse with waves of invisible light. Was it reacting to his magic somehow? Perhaps an effect of having succeeded in his gamble in the near future… or failed spectacularly.

Robin shoved the thought aside, turning back now was not an option. Steeling his nerves, the tactician began to chant under his breath. In his mind's eye thread of golden light away with electric sparks flowed from his outstretched hand, slowly and methodically weaving together over the rift. He worked at a snail's pace, careful not to disturb the rift. One mistake and the whole thing could be torn wide open.

_Just a little bit more. Just a little more._

The golden net was almost whole now. Robin tugged the last couple of threads, pulling them together to complete the seal. One more moment and-

The instant before the gap could be closed there was a sound like the crackle of fading lighting. The center of the net was ripped asunder, energy bursting forth In a sudden explosion of sensation that washed over Robin before he had a chance to react. At once his mind was bombarded with with a frantic cacophony of alien sights and sounds.

_Armies in ancient arm clashed on a bloody field… Snow falling over an ocean of white, fur clad travelers trudging onward... Morgan standing on a cliff, overlooking a burning town… The sea, waves rolling as a storm brewed in the distance... Lucina charging into a portal, her friends following after as fighting raged behind... _

Robin's knees buckled, the sheer weight of the sensations threatening the overwhelm him. Distantly he heart Lucina scream his name, but he could not tell if it was real or from one of the visions.

_Islands of land afloat on a sea of sky and mist…. A figure shrouded in darkness, his piercing red eyes staring out like flames… Grima black wings sweeping over a blighted land…. The ruins of time detonating in a blinding light._

Struggling with every ounce of strength he had left, Robin got one leg under himself and dragged himself upright. He redoubled his efforts, pooling everything he had into the spell, desperate to stem the tide that rushed from the rift. He worked as fast as he could, frantically pulling the threads together as

_Two armies met in a flurry of clashing weapons as the sun sank over the horizon… Space and time ripping asunder, an all consuming void threatening to obliterate all of creation… A golden blade, shrouded in crimson shadow cutting through empty space. Falchion rushed up to meet it, the clash sending the blood blade spinning through the darkness before erupting into fire that washed over all else…. A pendent glowing with gentle, aqua light falling into a pool of water, sending gentle ripples outward as it sunk beneath the surface._

With a gasp Robin finished his spell, yanking the threads together in one final burst. There was a flash of light, a burst of pain splitting his skull as one final image burned itself into his mind.

_A white, ghostly mask glinting in the darkness, crimson eyes staring from within black sockets. It was looking at him, somehow he knew it was looking at him. It could see him, it knew who he was and where he was. He heard laughter, the sound unlike the voice of any person and it-_

Like a door being shut the visions ceased_, _reality snapping back into focus. The world fell still and silent once more. The tactician swayed where he stood, his legs feeling as though they'd fail him again at any moment.

The next thing he knew he was on his back, staring up at the sky. He blinked. His vision was too cloudy to make anything out. He blinked again. And again. His sight began to clear. a dark shape looming over him slowly resolving into the faced of an incredibly worried looking Lucina.

"Robin, are you okay?" She asked. Her voice was breathless, as though she'd been repeatedly calling his name. He hadn't even heard her.

"I… I think so," Robin croaked, his throat burning as if he'd swallowed fire. "We're… still alive, right?"

"Yes, not for a lack of trying on your part," Lucina answered. For just a moment a worried smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Groaning, Robin pulled himself upright, Lucina at once reaching out to help support his weight. "I'm find… j-just need a minute," he assured her, his head throbbing painfully.

Lucina nodded, though her expression remained no less concerned. "What happened, Robin? One moment you were there and the next there was this column of light. I called out to you and couldn't see you anywhere. I started to run towards it, but before I could reach you it vanished and you'd collapsed."

"I'm… not quite sure. There was some sort of backlash from the breach. Maybe..." Robin shook his head. Truth be told he really had no idea what had gone wrong. "Doesn't matter now, it's closed off for the time being. Still, I can't help but worry…" Robin trailed off, remembering the final vision. It had felt too real, like whatever it had been had seen him. And that voice… he shivered, shoving the memory away. Telling Lucina would only make her worry, and she didn't need that weight now. Not with her- _**their**_ children on the way.

Robin forced a smile, reaching to offer his hand to her's. "I think I am well enough to make the trip back now. Come on. Whatever was the cause of the rift, it's been dealt with for the time. Let's go home."

They exchanged looks of equal parts uncertainty and hesitant smiles. Lifting her hand, Lucina closed her fingers around his own, squeezing him tight. With one last look back into the ruins, to the echos of their shared future and past, their shared fate, the two set off. Back out into the snow and the outside world. Into a future full of so much hope and uncertainty.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay on this one, a combination of exams and playing way too much Fire Emblem Fates prevented me from finishing this one as soon as I would have liked. Hopefully the next couple will come out sooner.

I feel like this was a fitting chapter to come out though, as it, I feel, does a good job of giving a small taste of things to come. So far I have about 4-5 more oneshots planned before _Love Across Time _goes onto a semi-hiatus as said "things to come" start in earnest. By which I mean I won't be writing oneshots on a regular basis, but rather whenever I have a chance to slip them in. But worry not, the stuff to come will involve Robin and Lucina heavily, so it's not like you all will be deprived of that :D

In the meantime, please review with your feedback, thoughts, and comments, as I really enjoy hearing from you guys. Even if it's just to tell me how much I suck.


	28. Checkmate

**Title:** Checkmate

**Description: **One of the Robin's favorite pastimes is to play games, particularly those with a strategic element to them. So does Morgan. Though it should come as no surprise that things can often get a bit competitive.

* * *

"Alright, so I move my knight here…. and capture your queen!" Morgan exclaimed, the entire board rattling with the force of her knocking the wooden chess piece from the board. "Now that over half your forces are gone I can–"

"Checkmate," Robin said, calmly sliding his bishop into place. Sitting back in his chair he folded his arms in his lap, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Morgan's once victorious green slowly morphed into a look of shock, her eye's going wide. "But how did you– but I was–" She scrambled out of her chair, scanning the board with fresh intensity. "There must be some sort of mistake, I can't have…" Her words faltered as her eyes fell on her completely surrounded king, her shoulders slumping in defeat."

"Sorry, Morgan, better luck next time," Robin told her. Standing, he went to retrieve the piece Morgan had knocked off the table, putting it back into place. Lucina got up from her own chair to the side, having been spectating the father-daughter chess match, replacing the various pieces she'd retrieved throughout the game. Like the one Robin had picked up, they had been casualties of Morgan's zeal in removing them from the playing field.

"But I captured most of your pieces, how did you still win?" Morgan crossed her arms, pouting as she dropped back into her chair.

"Easy. You were so focused on taking my pieces that you did little to defend your king. All I had to do was delay you just long enough to spring my trap," Robin explained, resetting the board. As he went Lucina handed him the pieces one at time.

"But I was winning!" Morgan complained. "Weren't you the one who always said to preserve lives at all cost? You sacrificed half your board to win!"

"In a real battle or with our simulated army? Yes, you would be right," Robin replied, giving her a wry smile. "This is chess, so it requires entirely different rules."

"I believe he's got you there, Morgan," Lucina agreed, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "But it's nothing to be upset about. Afterall, your father has already defeated me three times today, if you recall?"

"I know. Still sucks, though," Morgan grumbled. Puffing out her cheeks she reached back behind her head, throwing her hood up to punctuate her displeasure.

"And the hood goes up. I take it that means you don't want a rematch?" Robin asked.

"I… No, I… Let's go, I'll totally beat you this time!" Morgan managed at last, her eyes burning with new fire.

Robin laughed at the sudden return of his daughter's enthusiasm. Sometimes he wondered how she didn't tire herself out, especially with how quickly she could flip between being happy one moment and frustrated the next.

"Morgan, perhaps it is time we combined our efforts," Lucina offered, smiling. "Neither of us have yet beaten him, but if we work as one, perhaps we can finally prove victorious."

At this suggestion Morgan's eyes seemed to glitter even more intensely, if that was even possible, a smirk filling her lips. "Yeah. Yeah! Let's do this mother. It's time we won for a change!"

Robin eyed the two women sitting before him, though his smile remained. "Uh, oh. An alliance against me. Guess I'll have to pull out all the stops this game." Leaning forward he narrowed his eyes, his entire focus on the game. "Let's get this started then. Morgan, Lucina, it's your move."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry about this one being a bit short, though be assured the next one should be more substantial. Its going to be a two parter dealing with the often requested topic of showing how Marc and Nah get together, as its been eluded to in the handful of oneshots set further into the future.

Also, come on guys, I am getting like 1000 views on each new chapter and only two reviews? You guys can do better than that.


	29. Of Flowers and Cabals - Part 1

**Title: **Of Flowers and Cabals - Part 1

**Description: **One morning Marc finds Nah praying to Naga, and before either of them no it they are on a quest to find an elusive flower, Naga's Bell, to give as an offering so the Divine Dragon will grant Nah's prayer. Little do they know a certain Cabal of Justice is watching from the shadows, whose antics might very well derail the whole thing.

**Notes:** Takes place two months following _A Future Disowned_ and a few weeks following _A Future Undone_ parts 1 to 5.

* * *

Marc blinked and rubbed his eyes as he padded through the palace hallways. It was early morning, the sun having risen little more than an hour before. Through the hallways he could hear the castle's other denizens stirring the begin their day's activities. Soon the whole place would be filled with people bustling here and there, far more than usual with almost the entirety of the second generation of Shepherds visiting after a stint patrolling the countryside.

While it was nice to catch up with friends, Marc honestly missed the peace and quiet. It was so hard to get some time alone to think. That was why he'd gotten up as early as he did, aiming to slip off to one of the courtyards and get some early morning practice in before things got too loud and hectic.

Marc sighed, stepping out into the crisp, cool morning air. In the trees and bushes the chirping of birds could still be heard, still active despite being deep into the fall.

It was then that Marc noticed that he was not alone. Evidently someone else having had the same idea as himself. Stepping around the tree that had partially blocked the person from view, he saw that it was Nah. The small manakete sat hunched in the middle of the grass. Her head was down and she was completely still, her back to him.

"Nah, are you alright?" Called out, quickening his pace a bit as he approached her. "I just saw you hunched over and-" Marc started to say, stopping as Nah suddenly stiffened, turning to regard him with a questioning look.

"Um, yes? Should I not be?" She asked, her expression perplexed.

"Oh, sorry. It's just that you were hunched over and... I thought you may be sick or something," Marc explained, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed. Now that he thought about it, there were honestly a billion more likely explanations than the conclusion he'd immediately jumped to.

"No, I was praying," Nah answered simply.

"Praying?"

"Yeah, to Naga," Nah confirmed. "Naga is an incredibly important deity to the manaketes. Among us it is said that if you pray to her, she'll guide you to happiness. Which is what I was trying to do just now."

"Wow, sounds impressive! She must be awfully busy with that many people praying to her every day," Marc replied, smiling. "Well, not too busy I guess, since she found the time to help me when I went to see her a couple weeks ago with Mother… Yeah, now that I think of it it's not all that surprising, she is really nice."

"Yeah, sounds about right." Nah nodded politely, smiling back. "Despite how busy she can get she still takes time to speak to my kind every so often. She spoke to me just now, actually."

"Wow! What did she say? Oh, and tell her I said hi. And thanks for before," Marc added quickly, not wanting to be rude. Didn't want her to think he was ungrateful or took her help for granted. Marc's hand brushed over Falchion's hilt, his fingers tingling as they brushed over the warm and practically radiant metal.

"Kids your age shouldn't be up so early."

"Ha ha! She's a real mother hen alright!" Marc laughed, shaking his head. "So, um, can I ask what you were praying for?"

"What I normally wish for. Happiness, continued world peace, that sort of thing," Nah answered. Lowering her hands, Nah scrambled to her feet, dusting off her skirt a she stood.

"And did she respond?" Marc asked.

"No. She never does when I ask for that," Nah answered. Her smiles shrunk slightly at this, her expression seeming almost disappointed.

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Marc interjected quickly, worried he'd upset her with his question. "I bet it's just because the world's already saved and we can all be happy now. Yeah, I bet that's it. Or maybe it's her way of saying we shouldn't rely on divine intervention. We need to build happiness with our own hands," he offered, trying his best to remain upbeat and

"Hmm... Maybe so. That's certainly a very Marc-like interpretation," Nah said. She dipped her head in a short nod of thanks, her smile returning. "When we met you I thought you were a bit of a mope, but you really are just gung ho and optimistic as your sister when you get right down to it."

"I can't say I see it that way, but it means a lot to hear you think so, Nah," Marc replied. He averted his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn. "Not that I don't try to be, despite how hard it is. It's all about building your own happiness, right?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Marc. I didn't mean to bring that up," Nah interjected quickly, bowing her head in apology. I forget sometimes that you went through it just as bad as the rest of us did. Worse even."

"It's a-alright, I don't mind it, honest," Marc said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. "Really, it's nothing to worry about. Things aren't perfect, but, they're getting better, you know? _Things are getting better,_ he repeated silently, letting the words echo through his consciousness. He needed to keep telling himself that, remind him of it as much as possible. He had to remember.

Had to do what he could to make it true.

Nah nodded in apology, but otherwise said nothing. For a long moment neither of them spoke, an uncomfortable silence falling over the courtyard. Only the whisper of the wind in the leaves, the singing of birds, and the far distant voices from other parts of the castle could be heard.

Marc shifted awkwardly in place, holding his arms stiffly at his side. He opened his mouth to speak then promptly shut it again, afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd say something to offend her. He really didn't want to do that, if he got her upset… well, he wasn't sure what he'd do but he knew how he'd feel. Horrible, just horrible. Like the most rotten person ever. It was probably better if he just said nothing.

Yet…

Yet he kept returning to what she'd said before, to the disappointed look as she told him how Naga has never answered her prayers. He had to do something about that, he couldn't just leave her without some bit of hope, without trying to do something. An idea occurred to him then. It was a simple idea, not particularly of any great note... but perhaps it was worth a try.

"So, um, Nah. I hate to intrude if it's not my buisness, but I have an idea. For your prayer problem, you know? Maybe the two of us could try, together, I mean.. If both us pray together she's bound to give you a response," Marc offered, his words awkwardly flowing from his lips. His face burned again and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.

"I… I'm not sure if that would work or not. It's worth a try I suppose," Nah said.

"What, really? Great!" Marc grinned from ear to hear. He'd honestly been expecting her to decline his offer, making it rather difficult not to cheer like a fool out of sheer excitement. So he'd just have to stick to grinning like one. "So, how does this work? Do we just kneel down at start talking to her or what?"

"Just about. Though generally you start with saying something like "O great and wise Naga" out loud and then go from there," Nah answered.

"Well, you're the praying expert here, I'll just follow your lead and see how this goes," Marc offered, taking a step back to give Nah some space.

Nodding, Nah lowered herself down, kneeling in the grass. "Right. So first you kneel and cup your hands in front of you like this." She intertwined her fingers, holding them upright before her.

"Like this?" Marc asked, mirroring his movements.

"Yes," she nodded again. "Then we begin the prayer, speaking the first words softly before offering up your prayer. We do this by concentrating as hard as we can on the thing we want and emptying our minds of everything else. Repeating it in your head over and over helps a lot."

"I think I understand. Will there be some way to know if Naga has heard us, or do we have to wait for a response," Marc asked.

"Depends. Sometimes she says something to me, but other times I just get the feeling she heard. And there are times I don't even get that," Nah admitted.

"Aright," Marc replied, biting his lip anxiously. "Well, I guess there is nothing for it but to get started, huh?"

"Yes," Nah answered. "Now, repeat after me." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "_O great and wise Naga, hear my prayer…"_

"_O great and wise Naga. hear my prayer…" _Marc murmured, pouring every ounce of his concentration and heart into each world. He squeezed his eyes shut, his entire being fixed onto that one idea, that one wish: Nah's desire to for continued peace and happiness. _Please, Naga, I ask you, make my friend Nah's wish come true. If there's something, anything I can do to help make it so, please, just tell me. I want her to be happy. And I want everyone to be happy, just like she does, please._

Again and again he repeated that thought, letting it become a chant. Doubts began the claw and bite at the edge of his consciousness, but he pushed them aside, forcing his mind to remain clear. Nah said he needed to remain focused and free from distracting thoughts. He had to stay focused on his prayer.

It was as such that seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into a dozen or more. Still nothing happened. Neither did Marc hear a reply nor did he get any sense that someone was listening. He began to feel rather foolish, as if he'd been deluding himself in thinking his own prayers would be anything of note to the goddess.

Besides him he heard Nag shift slightly, stirring from her trance once more. Figuring that meant the prayer was over, Marc opened his eyes, turning to her solemnly.

"So, um, did Naga respond to you? Since I didn't hear anything, so I guess..." Marc trailed off, disappointed his plan didn't seem to have panned out like he hoped.

"Actually she did respond to me. Not sure why you couldn't hear what she said, though," Nah answered.

Marc's expression brightened at once, his eyes lighting up with fresh excitement."What, really? What did she say?" He asked, practically shouting as he found himself hopping up and down in excitement.

"Yes, she responded, but not exactly the revelation I was hoping for. She asked me for more offerings!"

"Offerings? Like what?"

"A flower," Nah replied."

"Oh? That doesn't sound too difficult. Any particular kind?"

"Naga's bell. It blooms once every 200 years, and only beneath a full moon…" She trailed off, her smile faltering, her expression becoming uncertain. "...That's what the legends say, at least. I've never seen one for myself. They only grow in remote, craggy terrain far removed from human settlement."

"Wow, nevermind on the 'not too difficult thing," Marc said, frowning too. "That's a pretty tall order, now that I think about it. Very specific, too."

"It's suppose to be near impossible to find. I'm afraid Naga's given me a doozy this time…" She sighed, shaking her head. "But you can't exactly ignore a direct request from a deity, right? Still… at the moment I don't even know where to start looking. Can't help but think I'm doomed to fail this one." Nah's frown deepened with each word she spoke, her shoulders slumping. She looked so sad and dejected, Marc couldn't help but feel for her. He knew what that was like, to feel small and helpless, your goals insurmountable…

He couldn't let her feel like that, it wasn't fair. She just wanted to find happiness like everyone else. And if getting this flower helped her do that, well, he'd have to do everything he could to make sure she succeeded.

"Hey, don't give up hope just yet," Marc said quickly. Reaching out he grabbed Nah's hands, lifting them up to hold them out between them. "I'd help you look for it. Between the two of us we are bound to find one of these Naga's bells, as long as we try hard enough."

"I… you'd really do that?" Nag asked, lifting her head to meet his gaze. She smiled slightly, a little bit of hope returning to her. "Thanks, Marc, that means a lot to hear that from you."

Marc felt his face burn, hotter and brighter than before. He opened his mouth to say something, only to find his throat suddenly dry, he words coming out as little more than a stuttering squeak. "Gee, I-I... " He tried to swallow. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to look away, but he stayed where he was, keeping his eyes on her. For once his resolve to keep from doing something embarrassing and his fear of offending her in some way mastering his awkwardness. "That, m-means a lot too me t-too. You saying that, I-I mean, not what I s-said.

He swallowed again, his throat as dry and parched as a desert. Despite his discomfort he forced himself to smile and continued. All the while he still held onto her hands "I'll have to do some research first, but I-I promise. We'll find this flower, even if it takes forever. I promise."

**. . . . .**

"What's going on? What are they doing," Cynthia whispered behind Morgan's ear. Or at least attempted to whisper. As always the Pegasus Knight's usual exuberance made anything requiring subtlety, or silence, a rather difficult task.

"I think they're..." Morgan paused, straining her head and neck to get a better look at her brother and Nah. "Yep, they're totally holding hands. They're holding hands guys," Morgan answered, stifling a giggle. _They look so cute!_

"Uh oh," Cynthia uttered, her eyes widening. Next to her Owain opened his mouth to speak, only to be shut down as Cynthia wisely covered his mouth with a hand.

The three of them were seated in the Ultra Secret Lair of Righteous Justice: the usual meeting point of the Justice Cabal. The base was... well, it was basically a large wooden shipping crate the trio had hidden in a corner of the courtyard. Morgan herself had employed her, rather considerable if you asked her, talents at disguising pit traps and the like to obscure the clubhouse from prying eyes. She'd partially buried the crate to keep it lower to the ground and covered the rest in a net of leaves, branches, and vines. The only openings were the tarp covered "doorway" that allowed them to crawl inside and the rectangular peephole Morgan was currently peering through.

"What's 'uh oh'? Should we be worried?" Morgan asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Should we be worried? Should we be worried?!" Cynthia exclaimed, perhaps a bit louder than was necessary. Okay, a lot, but Morgan wasn't one to talk in that regard. "Of course we should be worried. If Marc and Nah get together, that means less time for us. Think of the future of the Justice Cabal!"

Morgan scrunched up in forehead in an attempt to raise her eyebrow even further. It didn't work too great, or so she guessed. She'd need to check a mirror later to be sure. "Why would that be a problem? Last time I checked all three of us are dating someone and we have lots if time for the club. I'm dating the philanderer, you're with Mr Broody Stormcloud, and Owain is with Miss mommy issues," she finished, counting off each of their respective partners on her fingers to illustrate her point.

"Well yeah, sure, it's fine for us. But we're dedicated enough to make time for the Cabal. I'm not too sure if Marc has that kind of commitment," Cynthia answered in a huff. "Second off, we only just expanded our number when he joined us. We need to retain this kind of growth! It's important."

"Hey, I think Marc is plenty dedicated. I'm sure he'll make time if he and Nah get together. Besides, you didn't see how cute they looked together. Cuteness like that is worth the risk of less cabal time."

"I'm not convinced," Cynthia frowned. "Besides, look at Owain over here, he is a founding member and sometimes he has no choice but to miss out if meeting whenever Severa gets her claws in him"

"Hey, that is both unfair and demeaning to infer any man or woman holds dominion over the unshakable will of Owain Dark," Owain exclaimed, even louder than Cynthia had spoken before. He stood, or at least the best he could in the headquarters' cramped condition. He raised a hand over his head for dramatic effect... and smacked it against the top of the crate. Owain yelped, wincing as he shook his stinging fingers. Then without missing a beat he continued, acting as though nothing had happened.

"Even if love unyielding binds my heart with that beating within the chest of Severa Moonborn, never can I let my feeling cloud my judgment or falter in my endless quest as a chosen hero of justice," he proclaimed, covering his face with one hand in one of his, rather silly looking if you asked Morgan, poses. "Nay, I will never- No, _**cannot **_be enslaved by such perilous feelings. Not when-"

"Owain!"

The three of them jumped at the shrill shout. It had come from just outside the Justice Cabal headquarters, the voice unmistakingly belonging to-

"Owain, I know you're in there," continued Severa, her tone bringing to mind a vivid image of the red head rolling her eyes and scoffing. "You were supposed to take me shopping today, remember. Quit playing with your friends and let's go already"

"But Seveeeeeraaaa, we're busy plotting heroic deeds for the betterment of our glorious cabal," Owain whined, practically shouting back.

Morgan winced at the volume of his voice. Frantically she spun back to the window, peering out intensely. Yep, just as she feared, Marc and Nah had stopped talking, the shouting having altered then to the group's presence.

_There goes the advantage of secrecy._

"Besides, this is a secret base. Only members of the justice cabal can know it's location!" Owain continues indignantly, oblivious to the disaster he and Severa's volume was inflicting upon their carefully laid plans.

"News flash, Owain, everyone knows where your little clubhouse is," Severa retorted, her voice carrying another eye roll. "What are you even doing in there, were you-" she stopped student, before shouting. "Were you spying on Nah and Marc!? How creepy can you get. Is Cynthia and Morgan in there too?"

_Oops, cover_ _blown. _Opening her mouth to say something, Morgan nearly yelped in surprise as Cynthia clamped a hand over her lips. At the same time her aunt grabbed Owain by the ear, yanking him closer to him.

"Listen here, you're taking the fall for this one, mister," she hissed sharply so that only Owain and Morgan could hear. "You're going to tell her it's only you in here. Then you're going to go with her on your stupid date and not ruin the entire plan, got it." She pulled on his ear harder, eliciting a sharp nod from Owain.

_Huh, that's actually a pretty good plan. Man, I must be slipping, not thinking of that, _Morgan mused.

Cynthia released Owain's ear, allowing the swordsman to scramble upright and do as he was instructed. "It is of no concern, as it Is merely I, Owain Dark, alone... By myself... Yep. Alone," Owain shouted back in a positively stilted fashion. Cynthia groaned under her breath, covering her face with her palm.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Now are you coming or do I have to drag your sorry butt out your little playhouse or whatever it is."

"The Ultra Secret Lair of Radiant Justice is not an-" Owain began to argue.

"Not now, Owain," Morgan and Cynthia hissed in unison, cutting him off.

"Sorry, I'm coming," he muttered, crawling towards the exit.

"Good, glad to see you're being reasonable," Severa grumbled. The shuffling footsteps announced the couple's departure, Severa more likely than not pulling the uncharacteristically silent Owain along behind her.

Once they were long gone the duo sighed and slumped in relief.

"See what I mean," Cynthia said, turning to Morgan.

"Hmmm," Morgan answered, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Yes, hmmm, yes, you do have to point here. It would be prudent to ensure the vice-grip of committed relationships do not further distract from the Justice Cabal… but…."

"But…" Cynthia prompted, drawing out the word to urge Morgan to continue

"But as an awesome big sister like myself, I cannot in good conscious do something as cruel as to sabotage his lovelife. Not when they looked that cute. Seriously, you saw how cute that was, right? Totally super cuteness," Morgan explained, grinning

"So you're not going to do anything?" Cynthia said, pursing her lips and puffing out her cheeks in displeasure at this answer.

"I wouldn't say that…," Morgan replied, her grin growing ever wider. "I just said I wouldn't ruin things. We're still going to prank the heck out of them. If something as trivial as that messes things up between them then we'll know they didn't belong together anyways and Marc can spend more time with us! If they do stick it out, then we can be satisfied that we tried and failed in the face of true love! We win either way!"

"Fine… I suppose that would be reasonable," Cynthia relented, releasing a pent up breath with a side. "These pranks better be good though, if you hold on the A-grade material I will be sorely disappointed in you."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Morgan laughed, jabbing a thumb towards her own chest. "You are talking to a prank expert. The expertest of experts in the art of the prankt. Trust me, Cynthia. What could possibly go wro-"

Morgan's words would cut short as spoke from just outside the bushes, their voice carrying through the foliage and all throughout the wooden crate.

"Is anyone in there?"

**. . . . .**

"Umm, is anyone else in there?" Marc repeated, eyeing the bushes where he knew the Justice Cabal clubhouse, sorry, secret headquarters, were hidden. Truthfully he sincerely hoped that no one else had seen him fumble through talking to Nah, how he'd held her- He shook his head quickly. No, Owain seeing it was bad enough, if anyone else had…

For a moment it seemed like his fears had been for naught, nothing moved and the courtyard remained silent. He probably had just imagined hearing voices just then: the whole Owain ordeal and the embarrassment that followed had just put him on edge. Yeah, that's all it must have been.

Then, just as Marc was about to sigh in relief, panicked screams from at least two people cried out in unison, splitting the peace and quiet.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!"

"What do we do, what do we do what do we do!?" Cynthia's voice cried out.

"Our cover's blown! Run for it!" Morgan's voice answered, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Where!?" Cynthia replied, the panic in her voice intensifying with each passing second. "If we go out there now they'll be sure to see us!"

"I'm on it!" There was a loud pop, almost like a firecracker. A pull of smoke billowed from the side and the front to the structure hidden in the bushes.

"Morgan! What *cough* did you *cough* do!?"

"Smoke bo- *cough* bombs. I made them *cough* myself. Cool *cough* huh?" Morgan answered cheerily between fits of choking sounds.

"You're supposed *cough* to *cough* throw it outside! How does this help us!?" Cynthia screamed, her cry dissolving into wracking coughs.

"Oh *cough* *cough*, duh. On it!"

A hand shot out from the flap that led into the crate, tossing a handful of clay spheres into the grass next the bushes. A series of rapid cracks filled the air, sending out clouds of a opaque smoke.

"Now go, go, go, gogogogogogogo!" Morgan urged. Through the smokescreen Marc could just barely make out his sister and Cynthia scrambling over one another, nearly toppling over more than once as they attempted to shove each other out of the way. Then they were gone, slipping out of sight through the hole in the outer wall their grandfather had made some years before.

Marc and Nah simply stared dumbly through the whole ordeal and some time after, unsure how to really react. Or at least, that's what Marc hoped it looked like. He couldn't speak for what Nah was thinking, but right now he wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and die of embarrassment. They'd seen him pray with her, and hold her hand, and blush, and… everything!

"What was that all about?" Nah asked at last, the manakete's gaze still fixed in the direction the two had run off in.

"I-I am n-not sure. I d-don't really… It's n-not important, I think," Marc stammered, turning away quickly.. "I guess w-we better get cracking, if we're going to find this flower. I'll be in the library then. I find you as soon as I figure something out." He called back to her quickly as he made a hasty retreat, not wanting her to see how his face had turned completely scarlet in embarrassment, or how much he was shaking. He didn't even wait for an answer.

Only once he'd reached the safety of the castle library did Marc slow, his pace becoming a walk before he stopped entirely. He slumped against a bookshelf, letting himself slide down it until he was seated on the floor. He yanked the hood of his coat down over his face, holding it in place sat there,.stiff and mortified by had happened. He already screwed this up, he knew he had.

Why couldn't he do something, just once, without making a fool of himself?

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well guys, a lot of people requested this one and here it is: the first of a two parter showing how Marc and Nah became a couple. Now, since I figure it wouldn't interest some people as much as others, I figured it would be a good idea to intercut it with Justice Cabal shenanigans, which were honestly an absolute blast to write. The next part will likewise keep to this some topic, cutting between Marc and Nah doing stuff and to Morgan, Cynthia, and Owain being idiots. It should be fun

As always please take the time to leave a review and let me know what you think. Hearing back from you guys is a real help, as knowing you are out there reading and enjoying this story is a huge motivator for me to keep going.


	30. Of Flowers and Cabals - Part 2

**Title:** Of Flowers and Cabals - Part 2

**Description: **Marc and Nah set off to find the rare flower, Naga's Bell. Meanwhile the Justice Cabal follows behind, plotting their typical antics.

* * *

Standing on the tips of his toes, Marc strained to shelf above his head. Fumbling blindly for several moments, eventually trial and error brought his hand onto the old tattered tome he's spotted. While it had no title on its spine, the single ornate flower had caught his eye. It took a couple gentle tugs to dislodge the book, Marc remaining careful not to use too much force and potentially damage the fragile book.

Dusting off the cover, Marc peeled back the first few pages. Each were adorned with lavish illustrations of various herbs and flora along with detailed notes of their properties and uses. _Good, another promising one. _Marc smiled, setting the tome aside on the large stack next to him.

It was already late in the evening, the day having been spent scouring the library for any details regarding the elusive _Naga's Bell_ he could find. So far he'd stumbled across little more than a few scattered mentions, a paragraph here in regard to its significance in an seven hundred year old religious ceremony here, a sentence about its rarity there. So far he'd found nothing about what regions it grew or, more crucially, when it bloomed.

_It had to be soon. Naga wouldn't have given Nah an impossible task._

He sighed. Still, he had a lot of ground left to cover. The palace library was huge, many of tomes and scrolls having been there since before the founding of Ylisse, back when the region and the continent still bore the name Akaneia. The collection had been added to over the centuries since. Matter of fact, you could probably fill an entire bookcase with the additions his father had made if gathered in one place. And he's only so much as searched the smallest fraction of it.

Still, he didn't mind the work. It gave him something to do to keep his mind off of the embarrassing turn the morning had taken. If he stopped now he'd just end up dwelling on that and worry so much he'd drive himself crazy. Better to keep busy and do something productive.

Moving over to the next shelf, Marc picked through a couple more tomes, finding two more that seemed promising. By now he had a sizeable stack and would take some time to get through them all. Bending down, Marc grunted as he hefted the pile off the floor. Marc staggered, the unwieldy weight throwing him of balance. He tipped and nearly toppled over but managed to right himself at the last moment.

"Whew," Marc breathed.

Readjusting his grip, Marc wobbled back out from the line of shelves, peaking around the towering stack to watch for obstacles. So far so good, just a little further and-

"Umph!"

Before Marc could react someone had stepped out from an aisle ahead of him, running headlong into him. Barely keeping his balance as he was, Marc stood no chance. He fell back, the tomes spilling onto the floor all around him. One smacked him right on the top of his head, bouncing off his skull with a dull thump.

"Ow." Marc rubbed his head, soothing the throbbing ache. Yep, that was going to be bump.

"You okay there kiddo?"

Marc opened his eyes, finding his father standing over him, hand outstretched to help him up.

"Sorry about that, looks like neither of us were looking where we were going," he continued, Marc taking his hand. With a heave he pulled Marc upright

"It was my fault, carrying this many books at once was a bad idea." Marc sighed, stooping down to pick up his mess.

His father smiled, a soft chuckle falling from his lips "Why don't we just agree it was both voice faults and both try to be a bit more observant in the future." Kneeling down as he spoke, he began to help retrieve the scattered books. He paused after picking up one of the heavier tomes. Scanning the titled he opened it, flipping through a few pages. " huh, I didn't know you were getting into gardening," he observed, closing and setting the book atop the more organized stack the two were making.

"Not exactly," Marc admitted, frowning. He shifted nervously, not wanting to say more. But at the questioning look his father have him, raised eyebrow and all, he knew at once not answering fully would only look stranger. He sighed, resigning himself to giving the full story.

Speaking slowly, Marc recalled what had happened earlier that morning, including his shared prayer with Nah and the quest Naga had set them on.

As he spoke his father's expression changed: his eyes lips slowly curling into a knowing smile. Marc could guess what he was thinking, and, well... it did little more than to make him feel more embarrassed.

His father must have noticed it too. Not that was a difficult task, Marc _was_ blushing rather perfusely by the time he was done speaking. "I understand, say no more," he said, grinning as Marc's face got even redder. "I think it's a great idea, helping Nah out with this flower quest." Stooping down, he picked up one of the two stacks of tomes they'd made. Marc followed suit, two of them carrying the books over to a table.

"I'm glad you think so, but..." Marc said, trailing off. He absently kicked at a dust bunny near the toe of his boot. "... I already screwed things up." He whispered that last part, hanging his head in shame.

"What do you mean?"

"I... got embarrassed, ran off. I'm scared she won't..." his cheeks burned again and he quickly added "want to be my friends. Yes, that's what I meant to say."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," his father said, flashing him yet another grin. "Here let me tell you a story. It's about when your mother and I got together, so it's not exactly the same, being the two of you are _just friends_, afterall."

Something about his father's tone suggested he was thinking the exact opposite of that, but Marc let it go. Not that had the courage to... you know, argue the point. If he did he'd have, well admit the truth in his father's unspoken guess.

"About a month after your mother joined us, things between us got, well, about as awkward as you could get. Both of us had feelings, but neither if us had the courage to say anything. We both believed the other couldn't possibly feel the same way back."

His father ran a hand over one of the tomes, his expression distant and thoughtful. "This one time accidentally put my hand on your mother's. She got embarrassed and ran off, I thought for sure I'd offended her." He paused, smiling softly. "Turns out she thought the same thing, that _she'd_ offended me."

"So you think Nah might think she upset me somehow?" Marc asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

"It's possible," he father answered. "What important is that you do tell her. Like I did with your mother. That's the end of my story, actually: I realized she deserved to know why I was acting strange around her."

"Were you scared?" Marc asked.

"Terrified," his father admitted. "One of the hardest thing I've ever done. But once I did, well, the rest his history." His smile broadened and he added, "bringing flowers helps too, but I see you already got that covered."

Marc blushed for what had to be billionth time that day, eliciting a laugh from his father. "I know, I know, you two are 'just friends'." He paused, his smile faltering. "By the way, what was so embarrassing that you ran away? You didn't mention before."

Marc gave a quick rundown of what had happened with Morgan and her friends, and how they'd been spying on them.

"Oh, well, I wouldn't be too worried about them. You know how she is. I'm sure you'll be fine from here on out," his father said once he'd finished. Though something about his tone and expression made Marc think that his father was thinking something entirely different regarding his sister and her friends. What though, Marc could not guess.

"What I am more worried about is finding this flower, Naga's Bell. It only blooms once every 200 years, what if we can't find it? What if I let her down?"

His father placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Even if you don't find it, the fact that you are helping so much will mean a lot to her regardless. Trust me, you'll do fine," he assured him.

Marc nodded, but otherwise gave no other reply.

"Naga's bell," his father repeated, his expression becoming withdrawn, eyes distant. "Hold on I think..." He walked over to one of the shelves, picking through the tomes before pulling out an old, green book. He flipped through the pages then smiled. "I thought it sounded familiar. I'd read something about the flower Naga's Bell a couple weeks ago. I think this is what you need," he said, handing Marc the open book.

Quickly Marc round through the open page, then flipped it to read the next. At once his expression brightened. "Father, I... Thank you so much! It looks like the flower blooms this year, and in two days no less. Says here they grow in the mountains north of here, too." Setting the book aside he threw his arms around his father, nearly staggering him with the force of his hug.

He held it for only a instant, letting go to hurry away, scooping up the book and shouting back over his shoulder as he went. "Sorry, got too run. I need to tell Nah right away. Thank you!"

"Good luck, kiddo!" His father laughed, waving his hand.

Marc could not wait to tell Nah the good news

. . . . .

Morgan peered through the end of her spyglass, squinting as she tried to make out the small, unfocused image.

"Something's wrong, I can't really see anything."

"Um, Morgan, the other end," Cynthia chided, a sigh in her voice.

"Huh, the other..." Morgan lowered the telescope from her eye, gazing at it for another moment before it registered that she's been looking through the big end. "Oh, duh!" She slapped her forehead, the impact carrying enough force to make an audible smack. Fumbling with the spyglass, she turned it around, double checking she was looking down the correct end this time.

"You really aren't doing yourself any favors today when it comes to the ol 'total airhead or genius' Morgan debate," Cynthia said. "Let's just hope your plan displays the later."

"Don't worry, I have engaged the Morgan secret special trap. No way this fails," Morgan assured her, grinning from ear to ear.

"Is it a pit trap?" Cynthia asked. From her tone Morgan didn't need to look to tell she was rolling her eyes.

"What? How did you know?" Morgan asked, turning to her friend.

Cynthia opened her mouth to answer, but was stopped dead in her tracks as Owain's voice burst forth.

"Isn't is obvious, Cynthia of the soaring skies has manifested a new power born of her heroic lineage. It must either be some sort of telepathic sense or... No, prophetic vision! Tell us, was this the first instance that this glorious power has revealed itself or- Ow!" Owain yelped as Cynthia smacked him upside the head.

"Will you quiet down, someone might hear us! And I don't have any psychic powers," Cynthia hissed, shutting Owain up.

"Well... At any rate, my plan is still brilliant, that's the important part," Morgan said, beaming. "I dug these pitfa this morning, no way they are avoiding this one." She didn't even have to explain how she picked this spot, the three of them having listened in as Marc excitedly told Nah where and when they'd search for some flower or something like that. It might have been a gift for Naga,she really wasn't sure. At any rate, this road is the most likely one they'd take into the mountains they had been planning to set off to for a couple days now.

"And this accomplishes what, exactly?" Cynthia asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"It let's us see if their relationship can survive the trials of escaping from a Morgan trap. I thought that was obvious," Morgan answered. Rolling her eyes, she brought the spyglass back up and muttered,"And people say I'm oblivious."

"Can't Nah fly?" Owain asked, surprisingly concise based on what Morgan had come to expect.

"Really? Like I wouldn't consider that? Ha! trust me, I have something just to- Shhh, here they come!" Morgan hissed, spying Marc and Nah coming into sight as they crossed a crest in the road. Dropping her spyglass, she pulled Cynthia and Owain down with her, hiding them behind the bushes.

As the two approached Morgan picked up the sound if their voices, if too far away to tell what they were saying. A minute passed before she could make out their conversation.

"...you really think we'll find it?" Nah asked, her voice the first Morgan heard clearly.

"Of course we will. They are supposed to bloom here and on this day, right? We're bound to stumble on at least one," Marc reassured the manakette.

"Wow, Marc, I wish I could be that optimistic," Nah said.

"Someone's got to be. We're not going to find it if we've given up before we start."

_Almost there, almost there_. Morgan fought to keep her breathing calm, mounting excitement making even that difficult. _Just a few more steps._

"I suppose you're right," Nah admitted, smiling. "How much further till we start looking?"

_Just one more step_

"Can't be much further, we should-"

_And..._

Nothing happened.

"- be there soon enough," Marc said, stepping fully onto the roof of the pit trap, continuing on as if nothing at all was amiss. There wasn't even a creak, for all appearances he was treading on solid ground. "Hold on, let me deck the map." Marc came to a stop in the dead center of the trap, fumbling for a coat pocket and withdrawing a folded map. He stood there for a minute, peering over it intently.

"Looks like we have about a mile more to go. Come on, let's' hurry so we have more time to search!"

"Right!" Nah agreed, to two off then setting off again at a redoubled pace.

Morgan could only stare, mouth agape. The instant Marc and Nah had disappeared from view she leapt to her feet, running out into the road and onto the spot she'd laid the trap.

"What happened?" Cynthia asked, her and Owain joining her on the spot.

"I don't understand, the trap didn't work," Morgan answered, clutching the sides of her head in confusion.

"Could you have placed it somewhere else?" Cynthia offered.

"No, I'm sure it's right here," Morgan snapped. "Maybe I build it too thick... But no, I couldn't have. I make it the same as always!"

Groaning in frustration, Morgan jumped up in place, stamping her feet down hard.

_Snap_

All at once the ground gave away under their feet. The trio cries out in unison as they plummeted, landing hard with a solid _crash_.

At that instant a hidden rope connected to the pitfall's roof to run up a makeshift pulley system released the net Morgan has set in the branches of the tree above. It landed perfectly, falling into the whole wide open to trap them inside. Hey, at least her anti-Nah plan worked.

"Ow," Morgan said, staring up at the sky through the next. from the tangled heap that was herself, a bunch of sticks, leaves, and her friends. Beneath her Cynthia and Owain groaned.

"Huh, I guess I did make it a bit too thick, huh?" Morgan laughed, smacking herself on the forehead.

"Morgan, I hate you so much right now," Cynthia muttered, shoving Morgan off of her.

. . . . .

"So, Nah, I'd like to... Er... Apologize," Marc said. His a huff and puff he heaved himself up over a large boulder. Clambering over it, he gazed over the other side, scanning the cracked earth for the elusive flower

_Nothing._

"Apologize? For what?" Nah asked, raising an eyebrow as she turned to him.

"About, you know... Running off suddenly like I did two days ago..." He shifted in place, tugging nervously at the hem of his cost. "I meant to say something about it sooner... But... Well, you know..." He swallowed, a nervous laugh falling from his throat. "I just was worried I might of offended you. But it wasn't anything you did, I was just embarrassed."

"Oh, that?" Nah said. She laughed, her eyes glinting. "I'd just assumed you were really excited to get started. I didn't think much of it."

"Oh, y-you didn't," Marc stammered, feeling rather foolish. He's been so worried that he'd upset her or something, agonized over it for hours, only to find out I had been over nothing.

"Yep. Though, I must ask, what were you embarrassed about. I'm not sure what it..." Nah's expression changed at once as the realization hit her. "You were embarrassed about your sister weren't you?"

Marc froze. Beads of sweat dotted his brow, his hands going white. Had she put it all together? Figured out that he was embarrassed to know that they'd been spied on. That he-

"I don't see what the big deal is, Morgan acts foolish all the time. There is no reason to get embarrassed on her behalf," Nah continued, unaware of Marc's reaction. She continued to pick her way through the rocky terrain, thankfully not looking back his way.

Marc stifled a sigh, relaxing a bit. Thank, Naga, she didn't realize."I-I guess you're right. Sorry anyways, though." By now Bah had wandered further ahead, so Marc put in his best brave face and hurried to catch up with her. "Anyways, let's go find this flower, huh. I bet it's right up there over that ridge."

"I suppose it could be," Nah smiled back at him. "Let's check it out then, it can't hurt to try."

. . . . .

"Alright, so I'll admit the last plan didn't pan out _quite_ as well as expected. Still, this new plan is going to work, I can just feel it," Morgan said, grinning even as she clung to the branch of the tree beneath her.

"For your sake it better work," Cynthia muttered, picking out more leaves and sticks from her pigtails. "It took us forever to get out if your hole... That came out wrong."

The Pegasus knight face palmed, setting go of her branch. At once she wobbled, almost falling as she flailed wildly. "Woah, woah! Whew," Cynthia explained, grabbing the branch again at the last moment.

"Quit your bellyaching and keep watch, we need to know when they head back this way," Morgan instructed, crossing her arms. Unlike Cynthia, _she _managed to do it _without _almost falling out of the tree.

Marc and Nah should be coming back toward them soon enough. The path that ran right under the tree was the only easy way in and out of the small valley the two had gone to check out.

And when they do, I've got a surprise for them. Morgan hefted the barrel filled with the substance she'd prepared that morning. The concoction was one of her own design: a sticky, goopy mix of honey, syrup, and water that was both sticky and fluid enough to be poured easily.

"Owain, you got the feathers?" Morgan asked.

"Indeed, just as you instructed I, Owain Dark, have-" Owain began to proclaim, his voice booming.

"Yes or no question, Owain, yes or no," Morgan cut in, silencing his tirade before it could gain momentum.

"I... Erm, yes," Owain answered awkwardly, somehow managing to make the short and sweet response feel forced and abnormal. He held up the feather pillow Morgan had handed him before they'd climbed the tree, one end already ripped open and ready to go.

"Excellent, excellent, I love it when a plan comes together," Morgan said, rubbing her hands deviously. Just to make it clear, she did not fall into evil laughter. That would be taking it way too far. Besides, she wasn't evil. She liked to think of herself more as a 'mischievous little scamp'.

"Morgan, I have a visual. Should be under the tree in... I dunno, one, maybe two minutes? We'll call it a minute and a half." Cynthia exclaimed, peering through the spyglass that Morgan had put her in charge of using this time.

"Alright people, get ready! This is the moment we've been waiting for. On my mark we-"

Morgan's were lost as the branches of the tree lurched suddenly, the entire tree swaying from a powerful gust of wind that had come out of nowhere. Morgan scrambled for a handhold but was too slow to react. She lost her balance, the open barrel flying from her hands as she was flung out if the tree.

_Thump, thump, thump_

She landed at the base of the tree with a dull crash, Cynthia and Owain crashing down with her. Stars flashed before Morgan's eyes, but she could still see clearly enough to watch as the barrel tumbled end of end, spewing the sticky contents right on top of them. The cloud of feathers spilled by Owain as he fell landed next sticking to them due to the generous layer of syrupy goop.

For a long moment the tree lay there, dazed from the impact. Through the aching haze Morgan could just make out the sound of footsteps and the distant mourner of Marc and Nah's voices. The two passed right by the trio, completely unaware if their presence thanks to the same tangled undergrowth that had softened their fall.

"...we can at least look on the right side, we now know another place it isn't," Marc said, likely in reassurance for what could only be a lack of success. He gave a nervous chuckle. "Sorry, that was a bit forced. I must sound really cheesy."

"No, it's alright. I'm glad you're not letting out lack of luck get you down," Nah said in reply. "If it was just me I'd have lost heart awhile ago."

"Heh, glad I can be some use besides just keeping you company. You've been doing the real heavy lifting, reaching all those nasty cliffs and ravines for us. Turning into a dragon sure is useful, huh?" Marc noted.

"You know, I haven't really thought about it too much. It's so natural for me I sometimes forget that..." Their voices fades into the distance, the mountain road once more falling quite.

"Ahhhh, my hair!" Cynthia screamed, leaping to her feet in an instant. "And my clothes! This will take forever to get out."

"Hey, don't worry, I shouldn't take more than an hour. Okay, maybe two," Morgan assured her, groaning as she scrambled upright.

"Two hours!"

"Well, yeah. This stuff is hard to get out. Oh and attracts bugs like nothing else." This remark elicited a panicked shriek from Cynthia, who scrambled out if the undergrowth and onto the road, panting heavily.

"Hey, look on the bright side," Morgan said, following Cynthia out of the bushes, careful not to tread on the still dazed Owain. "This time it _wasn't _my fault."

"Grrraaaaaahhhh!" Cynthia screamed in frustration.

. . . . .

"I'm exhausted, Marc. Do you mind if we take a break?" Nah asked, leaning against a scraggly, gnarled tree that jutted from the otherwise barren hillside they stood on.

"Sure, we've been going for a while," Marc said. Truth be told he was as tired as she was. If it had been up to him he would have stopped to rest an hour ago, but he didn't want to seem weak when she was willing to keep going.

Dropping his pack between a crack between two rocks so it didn't go rolling down the hill, Marc sat down. Unbuckling the top flap, he rummaged around inside, retrieving a bundle wrapped in a clean handkerchief. He set it on his lap, peeling back the cloth to reveal a fresh loaf of bread and a apple. He broke the loaf in half, handing the slightly larger end to Nah.

"This is for you," he said, the Manakette accepting the offered foot with a grateful nod. "And for the apple..."

Marc tossed the apple up and down in his hand, watching it spin and tumble in the sunlight. On the third throw he flung it higher into the air, sending it soaring high over his head. Yanking Falchion from its sheath, he brought the blade across in a lighting-fast arc, cleanly cutting the apple in two before it could fall. Deftly Marc caught the two halves before the could fall. He held out his hand, offer one of them to Nah.

"Impressive, when did you learn to do that?"

Nah asked, accepting one of the halved pieces.

"I've been practicing it for a couple weeks now," Marc explained. Returning Falchion to its sheath, he tore of a bite sized chunk of bread with his back teeth. He crewed for a moment, swallowing before he continued. "Morgan suggested I try it one, day actually. She said it would be good training and would 'look awesome' at the same time. Mother disagreed though, she said it was disrespectful to use Falchion like a common kitchen knife."

"Heh, I could see her saying that. Lucina tends to take certain things very seriously," Nah replied, pausing between mouthfuls of food to speak. "So, I've been wondering, what are you planning to do? Long term I mean, now that you're here in this world."

"Huh, haven't really thought about it too much," Marc replied. He took a bite out of his apple, chewing thoughtfully. "I dunno, I guess I'll stick around Ylisstol, maybe join the Shepherds full time. Morgan has been taking over a lot of Father's responsibilities as tactician. I think the plan is for her to take over the job as soon as her and my younger selves are born. I probably will tag along with her, but besides that..." He shrugged his shoulders.

Nah nodded. "Makes sense. I'm honestly still trying to figure that out for myself. That's part of why I asked, to be honest."

Marc finished chewing before replying. "What have you been considering, if you don't mind me asking."

"I don't know. Ever since we beat Grina two years ago, I have just been going through the motions. I don't think I honestly ever really thought we would actually win: I hoped, but it seemed so far off I could never bring myself to truly believe it," Nah explained. She sighed deeply. "I've been with the Shepherds all this time since then, but worry that I don't I belong there or even in this world. It's only a matter of time before everyone starts going their separate ways. Brady and Noire already left months ago, and Yarne has been off with his parents for over a year now. Once everyone is off living their own lives, what do I have to keep me here?"

"Are you thinking about going back to your old world," Marc asked, dread fooling him at that thought. He didn't want her to just leave, not when... when...

"I've considered it but I can't say it really appeals to me," Nah answered, shaking her head.

"Well, whatever happens, even if everyone else leaves, you'd still have me. For whatever that's worth," Marc said. No sooner had he spoken those words he regretted it, cursing himself with his forwardness. He blushed, looking away.

"That means a lot," Nah said, smiling for the first time since the conversation had turned to the topic of their futures. This caused Marc to blush even more.

Desperate to hide his embarrassment, Marc quickly stuffed what's left of his good back into his bag, standing a moment later. "Well, I think we should get going again. We have a lot of ground left to cover.

"Oh, right," Nah said, gathering up her things as well.

Marc pushed aside his embarrassment, once more focusing on the task at hand. Why did he always have to make things so awkward?

. . . . .

"This whole trip has been a disaster," Cynthia whined, stamping her foot in the dirt. "I'm hungry, my clothes are still wet, everything hurts, and it took three hours to get all of that gunk out of my hair. Three hours Morgan, three hours!"

"Not to mention the attack by that vicious storm of bees," Owain added, his voice uncharacteristically empty of all enthusiasm, his shoulders slumped. "The stings still burn."

"Oh come on guys, it wasn't that bad," Morgan interjected. She grinned, throwing her arms behind her head. "So we lost a couple of hours and may have gotten stung a few itsy bitsy little bees. It's not _that_ big of a deal."

"I want to go home," Cynthia continued as if hadn't so much as heard what Morgan had said.

"Hey, we can't give up now! Where's your Justice Cabal spirit," Morgan scolded, wagging a finger at them. "Really you two, I though heroes never gave up no matter how bleak things get? This should be easy!"

Cynthia and Owain exchanged glances, both silent for several moments. Then without warning Owain spun back to face Morgan, his eyes ablaze as he began to shout at the top of his lungs

"Oh what dark curse had befallen my heart to forget the ceaseless passion that unites us three in our alliance as heroes of justice. We, champions of a doomed future have faced far greater foes than the stinging if insects and ill fortunes to turn back now." Owain turned, raising one hand up in front of his face, draping the other over the crook of his arm. "Now tell us, what is your strategy that shall allow us to starch prions victory from the cruel icy hand of failure?"

Cynthia glanced from Morgan to Owain, then back to Morgan, then back to Owain again. Then she sighed. "Alright, alright, I think Owain put it fine enough. I guess we can't just give up now, can we?" Cynthia said, a smile returning to her face. "So, what's the plan now Morgan?

"You betcha! I have plan C all ready to go, which despite it's name is totally A plus material," Morgan answered, rubbing the palms of her hands together.

"Which is?" Cynthia asked.

"The return if plan A, of course! We make another pit trap!"

At once Cynthia's smile vanished. "Oh no, not another one," she said, groaning.

"Hey, what's wrong with that?" Morgan asked. "Look, before you dismiss this out if hand, hear me out on this one. This time you two will be there to help and make sure I don't make another mistake. Plus we can dig it way faster with all three of us working. There are no downside. Come in pretty please," Morgan pleaded, giving the two of them her best big puppy-dog eyes.

Cynthia opened her mouth then promptly shut it again, sighing deeply. "Fine, we'll do it your way."

"Great, you won't regret this!" Morgan said. She runs forward, seizing hold of Owain and Cynthia's hands before rushing off the opposite direction, dragging the two along with her. "Come on, I think I see a good spot just ahead. We don't have time to waste before we-"

_Snap_

With a sudden lurch the ground caved in beneath their feet. The three screamed in surprise, landing with the crinkling crunch of dead leaves in a massive pitfall that had appeared out of nowhere.

_What the, where did this-_

"Morgan! Cynthia screamed. She bolted upright, displacing the pile of leaves and straw that had cushioned her fall. She spun on the spot, turning to Morgan with a furious expression.

"Hey, don't look at me, I didn't make this one!" Morgan exclaimed, crossing her arms.

Come to think of it, who did make this particular pit trap. Whoever it was, credit where credit was due, the trap was excellently well made. The hole was about fifteen feet deep with a layers of hay and leaves two or three feet thick covering the bottom to cushion the fall. The walls were reinforced with branches and tightly packed clay to slope outward, making it more difficult to climb out. The builder certainly knew what they were doing.

"What do you mean you didn't dig this one, you're the only person we know who digs pitfalls as her go to plan!"

"I swear, it wasn't me, I only dug the one!" Morgan countered.

"Oh cruel hand of fate, again we have been foiled in our righteous quest," Owain cursed, covering her face and letting his head and shoulders sink into a frankly melodramatic pose. "I fear some dark nemesis is responsible, countering each of our movements with relentless precision."

"Oh come on, that's silly. There must be some other... Huh... Wait, what's this," Morgan said, eyes drawn to a small alcove dug about half a foot wide and tall, and about twice as deep. Inside was a wooden tube, like those uses to store scrolls.

Pulling it free, Morgan popped the cap, unrolling the parchment inside.

_Dear Morgan._

If you are reading this then you and your friends have fallen into my trap. I regret doing this, but I could not have you interfering with things between your brother and Nah. I hope you understand.

If you are reading this and you have no idea what any if this is about, I must profusely apologize for any inconvenience this trap caused in missing it's intended target.

Either way, I will be along at the end of the day to help you out.

Checkmate,  
Your father

For a long moment Morgan could only stare, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. She re-read the letter several more time, looking for something she must have missed. But no, it was the same as the first time. Exactly the same.

"Give me that!" Cynthia snapped, snatching the parchment from Morgan. She read through, her eyes widening with each moment. "I... what..." She whispered, handing it off to Owain.

Morgan could only sit there, trying to wrap her mind around what had happened. It was him. It was all him! Her other plans hadn't failed due to mistakes she's made or bad luck. She hadn't made the roof of her pitfall too strong: Father must have used magic to reinforce it to keep Marc and Nah from tigger img it, only releasing the spell after she and her friends were right over it. And the gust of wind that had foiled her second plan, it had been another spell.

"I... I don't... What... I can't... How did... What... I..." Morgan babbled, clutching the sides of her head. Her mind was racing, struggling to comprehend what had happened.

He's outsmarted her, foiled her every plan. But what was worst, he'd finished it off using her own favorite tactic against her.

He'd beaten her at her own game.

. . . . .

"Hold on, I'm going to go check that plateau. Meanwhile you can check that little valley, it looks really promising," Marc said, pointing to the spots he was talking about. He smiled, trying his best to appear just as hopeful as he had at the start of the day.

"Marc..." Nah said softly.

"Then if it's not there I think the next hill looks doable, we can-"

"Marc," Nah repeated, louder this time.

"Huh, what?" Marc asked, turning to her.

"I think it's time we called it quits. We've been at this all day with no luck and..." She turned her head, looking towards the setting sun. "...It's getting late"

"But," Marc started to say. He frowned, struggling to words. "We haven't found the flower yet. What about your prayer?"

"We knew it was likely that we wouldn't find it, going into this," Nah answered, her eyes downcast. She sighed, looking almost sad. I really appreciate your help anyways. Today was still a lot of fun. It means a lot." She looked up at him, giving him a small, sad smile.

Marc opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again. It was her choice in the end of the day. Who was he to argue?

"We should probably head back soon at any rate," Nah continued, looking up at the darkening sky. She yawned, her eyelids already seeming to droop. She looked exhausted, as exhausted as Marc felt himself.

Yet tired as he was, Marc was loath to stop now. Not when there was still a chance. Yet it would be wrong to insist she stay with him longer, not when it was her quest and she wished to return home.

He seized on an idea then, one that would solve both problem. It was a bit foolish, granted, but it might work nonetheless.

"Nah, why don't you fly back. You look like you're about to fall asleep and you'll get there much quicker if you do," Marc offered, speaking up.

"But what about you? You'd have to walk back all alone," Nah asked, frowning.

"I am okay walking, really. If you're okay with it, you could even take my bag. That way we can both make better time than if we both walked or if you had me weighing you down while you flew." Marc replied.

"But it's going to be dark soon..." Nah said. Mage looked unconvinced, and more than a bit worried.

"I don't mind walking in the dark. It's a full moon tonight, and besides, I have this." He drew Falchion from its sheath. Ethereal flames burst to life around the blade, casting a soft white glow even in the dying sunlight. "See instant torch. Cool, huh?" He smiled, trying to reassure her.

For a long while Nah looked at him, uneasy and unsure. Then her expression softened. "Are you sure you're okay with this? And promise you'll not be that far behind?" Nah asked.

"I promise," Marc assured her, attempting to sound as confident as he could. Slipping his bag from his shoulders he set it on the ground. Nah did the same a moment later.

Stepping back Marc watched as a crystalline dome of light seemed to form around Nah, from which she emerged from in her dragon form. Alighting from the platform she snatched up both their bags in her talons.

"Do not be too long, okay?" She said, her voice seeming to echo and warble. With that she flapped her wings harder and faster, Marc having to shield his eyes and wind and dust buffeted him. Picking up speed she was soon far, far away from the mountain side, fading into the reaches of the darkening sky.

Marc stood there for a moment longer, then turned away. He set off at once, not making for the road but for the craggy cliffs in the opposite direction.

He couldn't let their quest end in failure, not when he still had the strength in him to keep going.

_I won't let you down, Nah._

. . . . .

Marc scrambled over a shallow crevice, flailing legs kicking a shower of rocks and pebbles raining down into the darkness. At last he pulled himself upright, grasping for where he'd tossed Falchion as to free up his hands as he climbed.

A long period of time had passed since he set off alone, though he could not guess it's exact length. It must have been a couple hours at the least. The sun had sense set beneath the horizon, and the moon was high is the sky.

He set off once more, faster than he should have. Even with the light of the full moon and the torchlight of Falchion's mystic flames to guide his way, the rough terrain was perilous to traverse even in broad daylight. Several times already he'd slipped, leaving him with several cuts and bruises. The pain from these were the worst part, exasperated by exhaustion and the numerous smaller scrapes from bumping around in the dark.

Yet he continued onward, stubbornly ignoring the pain. He had to keep looking. If he stopped now, He be letting Nah down. He remembered the disappointed expression when he spoke to her days before, and the dishearten look as she gave up their search. He bare the thought of leaving her like that. He had to find it, he had to-

Marc's foot caught on an unseen rock. He stumbled, lost his balance, and fell. Loose ground gave way under him as he tried to catch himself. He shouted in surprise, tumbling and sliding down a slope. His shoulder struck a rock, his leg scraped against a rough patch of ground. The he came to a sudden stop, a boulder stopping his downward slide, knocking the wind from his lungs.. Pebbles knocked loose rained down on him, pelting his face.

The a moment later everything fell still. For several moments Marc just lay there, everything hurting too much to move or even breath.

Then a gasping sob fell from his throat. _Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why can't I do this? I've tried so hard, and I don't want to let her down. I just want Nah to be happy._

He slammed his fist into the ground, his frustration boiling over. He should go home, this was stupid. Every instinct told him that was the right choice. Getting himself killed out here wouldn't help Nah.

And yet he found he couldn't bring himself to accept that thought. He'd given up so many times in the past and it had gotten him nowhere. He had to keep trying, not just for his own sake, but for Nah's.

Sniffing, he wiped his eyes and slowly lifted his head. As he stated into the darkness he noticed something ahead, a tiny patch in the landscape that seems a bit brighter than the darkness around it.

Staggering to his feet, Marc limped towards it. Soon it could not be mistaken and MArc was stopped dead in his tracks.

There, nestled between three stones, grew a small, pale flower. A single leaf few from it's stem. It's head was drooped, forming a bell like-shape, their color a ghostly shade of teal. It's appearence perfectly matched those he had found of the rare and elusive flower. _Naga's Bell_

Marc fell to his knees, unable to remain standing. He found himself laughing despite the pain it brought to his sore and badly bruised side.

He'd done it. He'd actually done it.

He couldn't wait to tell Nah.

. . . . .

It took Marc nearly three hours to make it back to the capital. He was tired, his head throbbing from lack of sleep, his many cuts and bruises aching with each step. Yet he forced himself to pick up his pace, falling into a sprint as the palace steps came into sight. The full moon was high overhead, casting a pale, silvery light over the midnight landscape.

His legs burned as he ran up the steps, but he ignored them. He hoped that Nah was still awake, he had to show it to her. He just prayed she wouldn't notice how much harm he'd put himself through to get it.

Mounting the last step, Marc sprinted forward, and promptly skidded to a stop, nearly bowling over Nah, who was there waiting for him.

"Nah, there you are, I was hoping you'd still be awake," Marc exclaimed breathlessly. He huffed and panted, his chest burning. Yet he did his best to stand straight and smile, the Naga's bell he retrieved held behind his back.

"Where have you been? I was worried," Nah asked at once, her expression one of mixed relief and annoyance. "I was getting ready for sleep and decided to check and make sure you got back safely. That was hours ago."

"It was? Oh, gee, I didn't know. I'm sorry, I must have been more tired than I though and the trip took longer," Marc lied. He felt guilty, making her worry like that. But still, it had payed off in the end, hadn't it? "But I have something to show you. Ta-da!" Marc thrust out his hands, presenting the elegant, cyan flower to Nah.

Her eyes went wide, her expression dumbfounded as she stared at Marc's hands. "Is that... How did you find it? We searched all over today!" She ran forward, wrapping her hands around his to hold the flower as well.

Marc blushed, but with an effort managed to keep his cool and _not_ devolve into a stuttering, fidgeting mess. "Funny story that, I was on my way back and on a hunch I decided to check a spot right next to the road, and there it was! I was sure we checked there before, but I guess the moon must have needed to be shining, not just be the day after a full moon," he lied, forcing a grin. Really, he just didn't want to her to know how much he'd done to find it. Not only would she probably be upset at him risking himself needlessly, but he feared it might come off as a bit creepy and obsessive.

"I still don't believe it... We found it..." Nah whispered. A smile grew on her face, and she laughed. "I'm in your debt, Marc, I couldn't have done this without you."

"It was really nothing, honest. I just got lucky is all," Marc said, embarrassment and joy grappling within him. He averted his gaze, happy the dim light made it more difficult to tell the color his had turned or not.

"I wasn't referring to just you finding the flower. You were the one who found out where to even look, and you came with me today," Nah countered, her eyes still glinting with happiness. "I was thanking you for all that."

"It's nothing someone else wouldn't have have done in my place... But, um, you're welcome, anyways," Marc said lamely. He fidgeted in place a bit, becoming very aware of the lingering warmth of Nah's hands on his.

"Here, you better take this. It's late and this is yours after all," he told her, gently removing his hands from under here and wrapping her fingers around the flower's stem

Nah nodded, half bowing with the motion in thanks. She smiled all the brighter. Then, before Marc could even react, she stood on her tippy toes and gave him a peck to the cheek.

At once Marc's face felt like it had burst into flames. He stood there, unsure how to react or even think. She'd... she'd kissed him... she'd actually kissed him.

"Goodnight, Marc. I'll see you tomorrow. And thank you so much," Nah told him. With that she turned, heading off into the palace and leaving the dumbstruck Marc standing alone on the steps.

Marc stared after Nah as she left, his brain still struggling to catch up with that had just happened. Only when she'd been gone for several minutes did he finally find it in him to move, lifting his hand to the spot where she had kissed him.

"Goodnight, Nah," he whispered at last, his reply far, far too late to have been heard by anyone. Silly and a bit pointless? Sure, but it felt wrong not to return the remark, even if only he was the only witness.

He smiled, the spot on his cheek seeming to tingle. He lingered for another moment, then headed for his bedroom. It was late and it had been a long day. Time for bed.

He slipped inside quietly invade Morgan was already asleep, only to find her bed empty. He shrugged. That was not too unusual for her. He wondered if her day had been as eventful as his.

Slipping out of his coat and boots, he sat down on the edge of his bed, reaching for his journal and a quill. Just before he could begin to write the door was suddenly thrown open.

_Thunk_. It slammed against the wall.

In stumbled Morgan, her face and clothes dirty, her hair a mess and riddled with leaves. She was groaned, muttering something under her breath as she staggered over to her bed, throwing herself down face first with enough force to rattle it's whole frame.

"What happened to you?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Graaaaah!" Morgan half growled, half groaned, snatching up a pillow of shoving it over her head.

_What's gotten into her,_ Marc wondered. Shrugging again, he set his journal aside, deciding for his clearly exhausted sister's sake to hold off in his entry until the morning. Blowing out the candles he climbed into bed. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his lips.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, we have reached the end of this little two parter, and man was this a long chapter. I considered splitting it into two, but decided against dragging it out much longer. I had also considered adapting Nah and M!Morgan's S support into this, but figured that part would more or less play out exactly the same as it does in game, thus was not important to show directly.

There will be another new chapter on Wednesday to celebrate Lucina's birthday, so be on the lookout for that. Until then, peace.


	31. First Birthday as a Family

**Title: **First Birthday as a Family

**Description:** After years of living in a hellish future, Lucina had long sense gotten used to birthdays passing within little event or ceremony. However, if her husband and daughter had anything to say about it, this year would be different.

* * *

"Surprise!" Robin and Morgan shouted in unison, bursting into Lucina's tent. Robin carried a slice of cake with pink and white icing on a plate, a single lit candle burning at it's center. Meanwhile Morgan carried a wrapped present under her arm. With her free hand the little tactician threw a handful of confetti into the very surprised face of Lucina.

"I… Morgan, what are you–"

"It's a surprise for your birthday, Mother," Morgan beamed. "And you aren't acting surprised enough. More confetti!" Digging into the pocket of her coat she grabbed another fistful of shredded paper, flinging it with reckless enthusiasm at her mother.

"I think that's enough, Morgan," Robin cut in, putting a hand on her arm as she went for a third volley.

"But… I spent so much time making it. This needs to be special for Mother," Morgan pouted.

"That's what the cake and present is for," Robin replied, smiling as her turned back to Lucina. "You have no idea what we had to go through to get this for you. Had to bribe Gaius for access to his sugar stockpile and then recruit Noire to back it for you." He extended his hand, offering the plate to his wife.

"I… thank you, I did not expect such an effort for my sake. After all, I am use to having my birthday pass without much event." She averted her gaze as she accepted the cake, blushing deeply.

"That's why we wanted to make this one special, being the first birthday you've spent with us," Robin said, smiling. "I mean, technically it's also your first birthday, or at least the other you's."

"Yep. Happy kinda technically first birthday, Mother, sorta," Morgan cheered, grinning from ear to ear. "Blow out the candle and make a wish, then you can open the present we got you." Shifting her grip on the box, Morgan tossed it up into the air so she could catch it with both hands in a spectacular fashion. She fumbled it and would have dropped the gift if Robin hadn't quickly stepped in to catch it.

"Careful," he warned.

"What, it's not breakable," Morgan argued, puffing out her cheeks in annoyance.

"Shhhh, don't ruin the surprise," Robin hushed, shooting her a glare. "Besides, you'd have ruined the wrapping."

"It's alright, no harm done," Lucina cut in, smiling despite her continued embarrassment as all the attention. How about I make my wish, then we can split the cake while I open the gift."

"Sounds good. What are you going to wish for Mother," Morgan asked.

"I am not sure as of yet, maybe–"

"Shhh, remember Morgan, if she tells us it won't come true," Robin interrupted, nudging his daughter.

"Oh right. In that case, do not tell us, Mother," Morgan correctly quickly.

"Really? In that case I must keep it a closely guarded secret." Lucina fell silent after that for a moment, her expression becoming pensive. Then a smile tugged at her lips, having evidently decided what to wish for. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and blew out the candle.

"Yay!" Morgan cheered, clapping her hands. "Now open the present! Father and I picked it out last time we were in town."

Setting the cake aside for the moment, Lucina accepted the gift from Robin. Untying the ribbon, she carefully removed the wrapping. Opening the box inside she gasped softly, pulling out a white dress of a simple but elegant design. Accompanying it was a braided rope belt clasped with a brass emblem that glittered even in the tent's dim light.

"It's beautiful," Lucina breathed, running a hand over the garment. Her eyes glittered, growing wet. "I… It's been so long since I've gotten such a gift… I do not deserve this."

"Of course you deserve it, you do more than anyone," Robin assured her, wrapping his arms around her to pull her into a warm embrace. He kissed her on the gently of her head, caressing her hair.

"Thank you. This means the world, coming from you two. I love you, both of you, so much." She laughed, her voice practically radiant with joy, and blinked back tears.

"And we love you too, Mother. After all, that's why we wanted to make your birthday special!"

"Happy birthday, Lucina. Let this be the first of many more we'll share together," Robin added. Leaning down his lips brushed against Lucina's, the two of them sharing a long, drawn out kiss.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Happy Lucina's Birthday, everyone. Sorry about this one being kinda short, as I did not have the time to write a much longer one-shot so soon after such a long chapter. Hope you guys still enjoyed it, and hey, if you want a longer Lucina birthday one shot you can always go re-read the one I did last year, as that was very substantial.


	32. A Dream of Loss

**Title: **A Dream of Loss

**Description: **Nightmares can be terrifying, even after you wake up. This can be even more true when those dreams are based in one's past. For Lucina these type of dreams are all too common, but at least she has someone there for her when they happen.

* * *

_Lucina scrambled through the burning wreckage, fog and black smoke turning the dark of night into an impenetrable void. Occasion the faint, ghostly glow of burning wreckage cut through the black, only to vanish with another staggering step forwards._

_All around her violet, burning eyes followed her. Through the darkness screams reached her ears, the voices so terrible they could not belong to any living person._

_Lucina skidded to a halt, something liming before her, so dark that it stood out against the void around here. One by one three sets of massive slitted eyes opened before her, each as big as herself._

_"Die!" Grima bellowed into her mind. Obsidian teeth flash as the Fell Dragon's maw rushed to devour her whole. Lucina screamed, the great shadow consuming her in a single instant_

_Lucina tumbled through darkness and then suddenly she was in the sunset field where she confronted Robin. Falchion was in her hand, pointed at her husband's chest._

_She couldn't do it. She couldn't kill the man she loved, regardless of what get duty said. Falchion fell her her limp fingers and clattered against the ground_

_The scene shifted and changed yet again, shadows swirling around her like mist on the wind. She was on Grima's back, the fell dragon lurching under her feet with every flap of his massive wings. All around her battle rages, the Shepherds fighting endless waves of Risen flung at them to halt their progress._

_With a cry Lucina charged forward, curing swath through the undead foolish enough to step in her path. Grima's vessel was just ahead, she had to reach him before he could draw more power. Yet each Risen that three itself at her slowed her just a little bit more, allowing more to reach her. She wouldn't make it._

_There was a burst of light and sound as a lightning bolt shot past her, smashing into the risen blocking her path and throwing them aside in smoldering heaps._

_Lucina smiles, silently thanking her husband's aid. Yet she did not have time to even so much as spare a backward glance, not right then. Leaping forward she crossed the remaining distance between herself and Grima's hooded form, bringing Falchion down on his head._

_The fell dragon lunged, dodging the blow. He sneered under his hood. His eyes glinted with an evil fire, the face of Robin, no, the false Robin taking on an almost monstrous appearance._

_Whirling back around Lucina slashed as Grima's side, only for him to dodge again. She pressed forward, attacking again and again, only for Grima to parry with the blade that materialized in his hand. Their swords clashed and Lucina was forced back, staggering as she nearly lost her balance. Black lightning cracked at Grima's fingertips as he launched a spell, Lucina manages to roll out of the way with but an instant to spare._

_Coming out of her roll she lunged again. The speed of her recovery caught Grima off guard, scoring a hit on his side. Black smoke spewed from the would and he howled in agony. Bringing Falchion around Lucina slashed twice in rapid succession, the first knocking Grima's sword wide and the second cutting him from shoulder to hip._

_"This ends here, Grima!" Lucina bellowed. With a final shout she stepped forward and drive Falchion through his black heart._

_For a moment the world went still, nothing making a sound. The Grima's body began to dissolve, vanishing in a cloud of inky black smoke._

_For a moment Lucina stood in shock. She's done it, she'd actually done it. She'd defeated Grima, the monster that had haunted her dreams and brought about the destruction of her world. She did it, she'd won!_

_Lucina spun around, excited to tell Robin the good news. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. She was back in the sunset field, Robin standing across from her, his body translucent as it drifted apart in a million tiny motes of light._

_Robin mouthed something, but Lucina couldn't make it out. Only the final words she understood, the words "I love you"_

_"No, don't go," she cries, tears running down her cheeks. She reached out to him, running forward. Robin lifted his hand too, and soon they were almost touching, their fingers but inches away._

_And with that Robin was gone, vanishing completely before their hands can meet. The sun sunk beneath the horizon, plunging the field into darkness._

_Lucina collapsed onto her knees, sobbing. It was her fault, all her fault. She'd done this by killing Grima. It had been her duty to do so... and it had taken away the person she cared about most._

_And now she was alone._

_And it was all all her fault_

. . . . .

With a choking gasp Lucina's eyes snapped open. It was dark, and what little she could make out was blurry. Breathing heavily she brought her hands to her face, finding it damp to the touch. She'd been crying.

She blinked several times, her vision clearing. It took her a moment to realize she was in Ylisstol, in her room and in her own bed. It was still early, the sky not yet having turned the faint blue that heralded the coming sunrise.

Lucina released her breath in a long sigh, willing her pounding hard to calm itself. _It was just a dream. Just a dream, _she told herself. She could already feel warmth of the person nestled next to her, not needing to even look to confirm he was still there. Yet she could not stop the pang in her chest. Could not stop the tears still rolling down her cheeks. It felt so real.

"Bad dream?" A voice murmured next to her.

Lucina turned her head, looking over to where Robin lay next to her. Her husband's eyes were still half glazed and distant with the remnants of sleep. Yet even still concern lined his face as he looked at her, his lips twisted into a worried frown.

Lucina nodded slowly, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to banish the images yet clinging to her conscious mind. "I'm so sorry, I did not mean to wake you."

"It's alright, Lucina. Besides, you know me, I don't need that much sleep anyways." He forced a smile. Still his words did not come off as overly convincing, especially with how he paused immediately afterwards to rub his eyes.

Lucina said nothing in reply, glancing away. It wasn't that she wished to ignore him, merely that she was unsure what to say. She didn't want to trouble his rest any more than she already had.

"It was about when I... 'went away', wasn't it?" Robin asked, his all too perceptive eyes seeming to cut right into Lucina, even clouded by sleep.

"Yes," Lucina answered simply. She let the statement hang there for a couple seconds. Then at last she spoke again. "How did you know?"

"You told me you had that was a recurring nightmare you had while I was gone, remember?" Robin answered gently. He paused for a moment, then added, "also a couple nights ago you were tossing and turning, and you were murmuring in your sleep. I gathered what you were dreaming about from what you said."

Lucina nodded but once again said nothing. She hadn't even realized she'd disturbed him before this as well. She felt horrible, knowing her nightmares had affected him so.

"Lucina, you can talk to me about it, you know." He put a hand on her arm, squeezing it tightly. "I don't mind being woken up or being here to talk whenever you need me. What I do mind is knowing something is bothering you but I can't help. Please."

"I... In my dream I saw the fight with Grima, but it was different. I was fighting him and I struck him down. I was so happy, I'd finally killed that monster. But when I turned to find you, I saw you disappearing, vanishing before my eyes. And it was my fault." Fresh tears pooled in her eyes, one droplet tracing a line of silver down her cheek.

"Shhhhh, it's okay," Robin murmured, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close. "It wasn't your fault. None of that was. I made the choice, not you."

"But I should have tried to stop you, and I did not. I watched you disappear before me and..." Her voice was lost in her throat. She did not sob or cry openly, only her tears betraying her distress.. "...and I did nothing to prevent it."

"It's okay, it's okay," Robin assured her again and again, rubbing her back. "Things worked out, right? I'm here now, aren't I. There is nothing to cry about now. The dream wasn't real, I'm here."

Lucina said nothing, instead opting to tuck herself closer against his chest. "I was so lonely," she murmured. She sniffed, her nose running a bit from crying.

"But not anymore, right?" Robin asked, squeezing her a bit tighter

Lucina nodded. "Yes, I am... Here I am, crying over nothing like some... Some child." She sniffed again, wiping her eyes on her forearm.

"It's completely naturally to get a bit emotional after a bad dream. You're tired and not thinking as clearly," he reassured her, smiling gently. "Come on, let's get some rest. I promise I'll be right here the whole time,"

"Good," Lucina whispered, her eyelids already drooping. She wrapped her arms around her husband, savoring the warmth of his body pressed against hers. Perhaps if she didn't let go, he wouldn't slip away inside her dreams.

Lucina closed her eyes and within moments drifted off into sleep. A smile was on her face.

* * *

Author's Note: Well here is another short one for you guys. I wanted to get something out sooner than I have been, but really did not have much time to delve into something longer. So rather than having actual substance, I went for something fluffy instead. I hope you enjoyed it.

I know I said the exact same thing about three chapters ago, but there will only be 2-3 more chapters of LAT before it goes on semi-hiatus as I work on a new Robcina centric storyline. The reason it is still 2-3 chapters away when I said that 2-3 chapters ago is simple: I decided to take the time to revise a few things in the upcoming storyline and I had some chapter ideas for LAT I wanted to do.

In other news, I am not sure if I'll be able to get a Morgan's birthday chapter out or not, but I intend to still try. So be on the lookout for that should I manage it.


	33. To Share a Birthday

**Title:** To Share a Birthday

**Description: **The idea of sharing her birthday with her twin brother was always going to be something Morgan would have to get used to. Unfortunately for her, the first birthday they would have together in this timeline was also the day she'd have to share it with his and her younger selves.

**Notes:** Takes place 7 months following the events of _A Future Disowned_

* * *

Morgan fiddled with her hands, staring into the flame of the candle placed upon the small end table that had been moved into the hallway just outside her parents' room. It was late, just after midnight on the fifth of May. It wasn't long now, less than an hour until it would be the exact anniversary of her birth,

And also the exact time and date _of _her birth.

But that's why she seated here outside her parents room, wasn't it? To wait while her and Marc's younger selves were born.

Not a sound came from inside the room, though that did not come as a surprise. Knowing full well when the twins would be born, her father had spent the entire morning weaving a spell to dampen noise from inside to keep the sounds of her mother's labor from disturbing anyone else who might be attempting to sleep.

Not that anyone _was _asleep right now. Her father and grandparents were inside with her mother, as was Lissa, who was acting as the healer proceeding over the whole ordeal to ensure it went without complication. That alone should have been enough to put all worry to rest, as Morgan could count the healers who were her great aunt's equal on one hand. And all of those were former Shepherds.

Besides herself other members of the family were seated outside the room. Cynthia sat to Morgan's left, constantly fidgeting and moving about her chair with an uneasy, nervous energy. Her aunt's boyfriend, Gerome, soon nearby, he back to the wall and managing to look just a bit nervous desire his expression hidden behind a mask.

Meanwhile Marc sat on the chair across from her, his head down and face lined with worry. Nah sat close by his side, their shoulders nearly touching. The two had been a couple for some time now, despite her inability to test the commitment of their relationship herself thanks to her father's meddling. Still, the two had been practically inseparable as of late, so Morgan did not begrudge it too much. As long as her little brother was happy, she was happy with it too.

Even as Morgan watched Nah slipped a hand down onto Marc's lap, taking one of his hands in her's and giving it a squeeze. At once Marc seems to relax slightly, some of the tension in his shoulders dissipating and his expression relaxing, if ever so slightly

A pang of loneliness tore through Morgan, reverberating like the pealing of a great gong. She looked away, not wanting to be reminded of what she was missing.

_I wish he was here._

She closed her eyes, remembering the chilly, winter night she'd last spoken to Inigo. The very night he had left with Owain and Severa on some secret business he hadn't told her about. It had been three months since then and it still hurt, to be left behind, to feel like she'd just been abandoned.

Her expression must have betrayed her distress, as Cynthia looked over to her then, staring for a moment before saying "Worried too, huh? Well I'm sure it will be fine. Aunt Lissa is the best healer in the whole continent and you guys were born fine in your time, right?"

Morgan nodded but otherwise said nothing, opting to pretend that was the only thing eating at her. Sure, she _was_ worried: birthing twins were always hard and were more likely lead to complications. But her mother was the just about strongest woman in the world and she was in good hands.

No, there was something else the impending birth that gnawed at her mind. A small, frankly irrational fear that thinking of her absent boyfriend had brought to the surface.

She couldn't help but worry that with her younger self born, her parents wouldn't want her around anymore.

She knew it was stupid to even consider such a thing. Her mother and father loved her so very much and would never just abandon her or replace her like that. Every bit of logic and feeling told her this was the truth of the matter, that her worry was foundationless. Yet try as she might that though was there, squirming like some parasite at the back of her mind, whispering doubts.

_'What if they left you too.'_

At that moment there was a soft creek, the door to the bedroom opening. From within came Chrom and Sumia, shutting the door behind them. Both of Morgan's grandparents looking very tired and worried. Morgan stiffened in her chair, as did everyone else, bracing herself for what could very well be bad news. For a moment no one so much as breathed, the hallway dead silent.

"No complications," her grandfather said at last, letting out a long drawn out sigh of relief. "As far as I can tell, which Lissa confirmed, both the little ones are healthy. Your mother is exhausted, but handled the ordeal well."

"She's resting right now, but is still awake if you want to go see her and the newborn's," her grandmother added. At once everyone stood, only to be quickly stopped by Sumia's outstretched hand. "Let's not all crowd her at once, alright. I think Morgan and Marc should go in first, everyone else can wait a bit."

Morgan and her twin remained standing while the others did as they were told, abet with some grumbling on the part of Cynthia about wanting to see her new niece and nephew.

Then, taking a deep breath, Morgan seized hold of the door handle. Slowly and carefully she opened the door, the hinge squeaking despite her efforts. With that she stepped inside, Marc carefully shutting the door behind them.

Inside they found the room dimly lit by candles, the faint smell of incense filling the air. Off to one side of the room Lissa could be seen, tidying up blood stained sheets and cloth. She nodded to the two as they entered, pausing in work just long enough to raise a finger to her lips in signal for them to remain quite.

In the bed lay their mother. She had fresh, clean covers draped over all but her shoulders, head, and arms. She had net hands folded on her lap, her back propped up my many pillows. Her expression stood out the most, for it was perhaps the most exhausted Morgan had ever remembered seeing her. Even after hours of battle she had never seemed so spent. Her hair was tangled and seemed to still be sticky with sweat. Her eyelids to were half lidded and distant.

In a chair pulled up close to the bed sat their father. His clothes and hair were in disarray, and looked just as tired as their mother. Yet he was smiling, which reached even to his weary eyes. In his arms were cradled two bundles of blankets, which he rocked gently.

At once their parents' eyes fell on them, their smiles broadening as even their utterly exhausted mother pirked up a bit.

"Happy birthday, you two," their mother murmured, sounding more than a bit drowsy.

"Which, in this case, is also entirely literal," their father added, white teeth showing as he flashed them a grin. "Do you want to them? You? Them-you? Ah, you get what I am trying to say."

"Only if it's allright," Marc said, posing Morgan's own question before she could herself.

"Of course, just try not to make too much noise, they just fell asleep."

Nodding, Morgan inched closer, trying her best to move without making undue sound. Reaching the foot of the chair she looked down at the infants held in her father's arms.

Both were fast a sleep, their faces scrunched up and more than a bit red. Morgan guessed that was normal, otherwise her parents would be worried. Both has short, fuzzy blue hair on their heads, which clashed with their pink skin. They were both wrapped azure blankets, only their arms and heads sticking out from the bundles.

"Who's who?" Morgan asked, looking between the two infants. Try as she might she couldn't tell the two apart. Granted she and Marc looked quite similar at times, even years later, but she'd figured that she would have at least been able to pick herself out from the newborn twins. Baby form notwithstanding.

"The one on your right is Morgan. Marc is on your left," her father answered, doing his best to indicate them each in turn with his chin.

Kneeling down, Morgan states into the sleeping face of her younger self. She looked so small and tiny. And adorable, which was saying alot considering that she already was adorable as heck. Throw in the baby factor and you have weaponized cute right there.

The infant squirmed a bit in her sleep, lifting a hand to grasp one of Morgan's fingers. Morgan grinned: little her had a really strong grip too. It was then that she noticed something on the back of the baby's hand. Gazing closer it was unmistakeable: the brand of the exalt was there clear for all to see.

It was relatively rare for those of the exalted bloodline to manifest their mark at birth: her mothering being the first in recent memory. She wondered if Marc's newborn self had his brand already. She'd have to check his right eyes when he was awake next.

She glanced over to Marc, who had likewise stooped down to see his infant counterpart. It took a moment before Morgan realized he had tears in his eyes and he was smiling. Of course, unlike herself he remembered their future and what had happened. This moment meant far more to him then her: seeing his younger self and knowing this version if him would have the life free of Grima's shadow.

"So," her mother said, speaking up suddenly. Morgan turned to look her way. "While we may not have the chance to celebrate your birthdays properly, that does not mean we forgot about you."

"It's okay, Mother, I know you haven't," Morgan answered. To her surprise she said it would feeling even a twinge of doubt that her words somehow untrue. She believed it, fully and completely.

"Happy birthday, little me," she whispered to the baby, a smile on her lips as she spoke. "And welcome to the best family in the whole, wide world."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, it was a bit of a close call, but I managed to get this one out in time for Morgan's birthday. I figured I would show the younger versions being born would also be important given that my upcoming storyline will take place about a month after this happens.

Also, what is this? A direct reference to Fire Emblem Fates? Surely this is just a Easter egg and not setup for things to come. That would be rather silly, who told you that?

Er, um... Well, anyways, we have about one chapter left before we dive into the new plotline I have planned, so be on the lookout for that. Until next time, please take the time to review and let me know what you think, it really means a lot. Peace!


	34. Reasons to Love

**Title: **Reasons to Love

**Description:** Love is funny and not often easy to put into words. Though that is not a reason to never try.

**Notes: **Takes place during the Hotspring Scramble DLC, some time before the events of Chapter 21 of Awakening

* * *

"Huh, this is nicer than I expected," Lucina observed, stepping fully into the lavishly furnished room they would be staying.

"No joke. Anna was not kidding when she said that her sister ran one of the best resorts in Bathrealm," Robin agreed. "Which considering the whole Outrealm is one big hot spring, that's saying a lot."

While of a different design to what he was used to, reminding him vaguely of the more of that seen in southern Valm and, the room rivaled the palace at Ylisstol. It has a large bed, though here the mattress rested directly on the ground. Bottles of wine and other beverages lined an ornately carved shelf, price tags clearly labeled of course. Towels and simple yukatas lay folded on a table. A curtain separated the main room from a private bath, steam wafting out and giving the whole room a pleasant scent of mineral rich water.

"Indeed, though I am not complaining. Let's get settled in then, shall we?" Lucina said, moving to stow her things.

For a moment Robin could only stare, transfixed for not the first time how absolutely beautiful Lucina looked in the blue yukata she'd bought earlier that day. From how it accentuated her lithe figure to how the shade matched her hair and eyes, she was simply stunning in it.

Shaking his head, Robin started on some preparations of his own. Closing the door behind him, he began muttering a spell under his breath, tracing his finger in arcane runes. Satisfied with the spell he moved over to one of the windows to repeat it.

It was they that he became aware that Lucina was staring at him. "Robin, what are you doing?" Lucina asked, speaking up as last the moment he'd finished. She arched an eyebrow, managing to look bit quizzical and uncertain.

"I am casting little spell I learned that should alert me if anyone comes snooping here tonight," Robin explained before moving to the next curtained window to repeat his spell.

"Why? Is there reason to suspect someone is spying on us," Lucina exclaimed, her eyes going wide in alarm.

"Not suspect, per say. More, I know for a fact someone was earlier," Robin answered. Seeing Lucina's expression become even more shocked, he elaborated, "Earlier Anna's sister, the one who runs the hotsprings, was using a tome to record images of some of us as we bathed. Myself included. So let's just say I don't intend to give her a shot at trying it again."

"She what?!" Lucina exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "Where is she? I would have her destroy the abominable thing and apologize for breaching our privacy in such a shameful manner"

"No need, I kind of ruined the time by soaking it with water when I caught her in the act," Robin assured her. "I will speak to her in the morning though, but for now I'd much rather enjoy the rest our evening together"

"Oh, of course," Luina said simply, much of the previous indignant fury leaving her. "Still, we must see to that. In the morning. After we aren't preoccupied with... us," she ended awkwardly. A curious frown crossed her lips a moment later, and she asked, "Robin, why have I not seem you use this spell before. Would it not be valuable in safeguarding our camp?"

"The spell has a very limited range and only really works in detecting when magic is being used. So it's not particularly useful when a skilled sentry can generally do more," Robin answered.

Finishing up on the last window, Robin moved over to sit down on the bed besides Lucina. He kicked off his boot before dropping down onto his back with arms resting behind his head and yawned deeply.

"What a day, huh?"

"Yes, between the interruption of the Risen and the rest of the time spent in the springs after it is a wonder I can even keep my eyes open," Lucina answered, stifling a yawn of her own with the palm of her hand.

"Well I hope you aren't too tired yet. I don't think I could let myself sleep now when it meant losing out on a rare moment we have to ourselves," Robin said, sitting upright. As he did he let his hand burst against her's, remembering keenly how the same gesture has seemed so awkward to him but months before.

"Of course, there is no other place I'd rather be now that spending time with you," Lucina assured him. She smiled, her eyes glittering as she placed her hand over his.

For a moment Robin could only stare back into her gaze. The feeling was indescribable, feeling as though he was trapped in a warm, joyous trance he did not wish to wake from. He could sit there forever staring into her eyes. Honestly, if not for needing to eat and sleep he probably would be content to do just that.

However there was something bothering him, way back in some corner of his mind. Perhaps it was born from their conversation earlier that day, of Lucina's insistence that she must one day leave, that had brought a doubt to his mind. At first he though to ignore it, but... no, perhaps it was better to ask. He trusted her, more than anyone. Hearing her answer would do much to put his mind at ease.

"Lucina, why do you love me?" Robin asked, slipping his hand out from between them. Still, he watched as her eyes widened, if ever so slightly, at the sudden question. "I mean, not that I doubt you do. Not for a moment," he added quickly, twiddling his thumbs nervously in his lap. "I'm just, wondering, you know? We've been together for awhile now, and well..." He trailed off, the statement hang there.

Too me honest, he genuinely wondered what she could see in him. He could go on for hours about all of the things he loved about the amazing woman sitting next to him. About why he thought she was special. About why she was so important to him. Why he couldn't live without her. But himself? He wasn't anything special: he was just a tactician, nothing more. There were probably a thousand men more worthy than he was.

Lucina nodded, folding her hands in her lap. For a moment Robin feared she would not answer. Then, at last, she began. "As you know, I harbored some feelings for you since I was a girl. I guess you can say you were my first crush: the dashing, handsome tactician of the Shepherds." She gave a soft, nervous laugh, her cheeks turning pink. "It was rather silly to be honest, something I'd figured I'd outgrow."

Robin dipped his head in acknowledgement for what she'd said. She'd told him as much before, and the thought still filled him with embarrassment. Particularly to be referred to as "dashing" or "handsome". Just thinking about it now was almost enough to make him blush.

"I suppose beyond that I am afraid I didn't know much about you. Only the stories I've heard. Of the legendary tactician who'd turn the tides of battle against impossible odds. Who always brought everyone home alive."

Now Robin really did blush at her words. "I just got lucky most of those times. And I did nothing more than anyone else would have done in my shoes," He argued, self conscious to have such praise thrust on him.

"You do not give yourself enough credit, Robin. Not when we have seen your exploits first hand," Lucina countered. "But regardless, that is merely the image of you I had when I joined the Shepherds."

Robin nodded again, saying nothing. Part of him wanted to argue, but he decided against it. Now was not the time.

"But, then I spent time with you: got to truly know you. Not the tactician I'd heard stories about or the the Robin seen from child's view, but the real you," Lucina continued, her brilliant azure eyes meeting his. "That's the Robin I came to admire, the... the Robin I love." Her face turned bright red at that admission. She averted her gaze, suddenly very shy.

Robin lifted a hand, moving it closer to her. He froze, for a moment uncertain, then gently placed it on her arm. She stiffened at his touch, then relaxed, her eyes returning to look his way.

"It's okay if you're not comfortable speaking about this yet. We can talk about something else," Robin offered gently. He have her a small smile. "I wouldn't mind."

"No, it's alright. I..." She stopped, giggling suddenly. "Here you are, so worried about how I feel. Just as I was about to say how you may be the kindest, most caring man I have ever met." Her eyes glinted, practically sparkling. In that moment they seemed as though they had been made from the ocean's waves themselves.

"I admire that greatly about you, the way you care about everyone so much, You are so driven to do whatever you can to help and protect them, I can't help but see you as an example of what I strive for. You are always there for everyone, always there to help and be strong for their sake."

"I'm not that strong," Robin muttered, turning his gaze down onto the floor. "I just do myself to appear so. Inside... inside I am hardly as confident or brave."

"What you are describing is strength, Robin, don't you see? You don't let your doubts or fears stop you from doing everything in your power to care for your friends," Lucina said gently. Now it was her turn to put a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. Then her hand slipped away, and she continued on.

"But it is not just your kindness, but also your wonderful mind that I love about you. You are so intelligent, so very clever and full of knowledge..." Lucina trailed off, a thoughtful smile tugging at her lips. "Yet you are not cold or distant for it. You always seem to know just what to do or say to put my worries at ease. And you can always make me laugh, even if I don't get the joke."

"I'm not sure if I should take that last bit as a compliment, or that I need to work in less obvious punchlines," Robin teased. He smirked, then quickly added, "Sorry, couldn't resist. May have been a rude there, I didn't really mean to imply..."

"It's alright, I took no offense." Lucina giggled, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle more laughter. "This is what I mean, even on the little things you always worry about his everyone is feeling."

Lucina turned where she sat, facing him more fully now. "And I even love you for your faults. You can be awkward at times, and terribly stubborn. And you have this wording tendency to blame yourself for things out of your control. But even still, I find myself endeared by these flaws and others," Lucina said, her smile broadening "Not to mention you are also quite possibly the worst cook I have ever met. And your tent is a mess," she added quickly, the bluntness of her statement coming as quite the shock after her more elegant speech.

This got a genuine laugh out of Robin. He shook his head, wiping away the single tear brought out by the intensity of his merriment. "You got me there."

"But it's for all these together that I care fire you. When I'm with you, I don't feel like a stranger in this time or afraid of what the future might bring. I feel... happy."

As she finished Lucina's hand inches towards Robin's own. He too slid his hand closer, until they met, intertwining their fingers with one another. A few months ago the two would have found themselves red-faced and paralyzed at the mere thought of holding hands, but now the gesture was one both readily welcomed.

"I'm... glad... that I can make you happy, Lucina," Robin said, forcing past the lump that had formed in his throat. His vision blurred and he blinked, finding that tears at formed in his eyes. Hearing her say that... it made him happy too. Happier than could possibly be imagined. "You, being happy, that's all that I've wanted, Lucina."

For a long moment they say there in silence, hands squeezed tightly together. Any more Robin could have said in that moment was unimportant when all that and more could be conveyed with just a look and a touch. He didn't need to say how it felt then, be neither did Lucina. Just being there, hand in hand, was enough for that moment.

Then at last Lucina moved to speak. "So, now that I have answered your question, may I take it in turn to ask the same of you? Why do you love me?" Lucina asked, breaking the silence. She turned to him, her eyes meeting his own once more.

"Of course I can, though I fear I will be repeating myself. I've made it no secret in saying what I love about you, Lucina," Robin replied

"Yes, but it always brings me comfort to hear you speak of them again," Lucina answered.

Robin dipped his head in a curt nod. "In that case I would be happy to. Now then... where to begin? He paused, smiling wistfully as he considered the myriad of things that made her the most amazing woman in the world. Or at least, why she was to him. "Of course you're beautiful, and strong, and stunning the way you carry yourself; so I won't lie that some attraction is part of it. But really, you could be the look like plainest girl who's ever lived and it wouldn't change how I feel."

His smile grew as he saw Lucina's cheeks turned a dark shade of pink at his compliments. "Sorry, couldn't resist to slip in a couple of compliments. Not that I did not speak truthfully. I meant each and every one of them."

Lucina's cheeks darkened even more, nearly turning a deep scarlet. "I... thank you... I did not mean to imply that I do not appreciate the thought, just..." She trailed off awkwardly. Even so, she was still smiling.

"Just wait, I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet," Robin told her. "For starters, you are quite possibly the strongest, most amazingly driven woman I've ever met. I actually look up to you a great deal in that regard."

"What do you mean," Lucina asked.

Robin felt his smile fade, his expression becoming one far more pensive as he considered his next works carefully. It was a topic he honestly did not like to broach; talking about his own struggle with near constant self doubt. He barely talked to Lucina about it. He didn't want her to worry about him.

"Truthfully, I am not the bravest or most confident person there is, Lucina. I just do better than most at appearing sure of myself. I have to be: if the everyone knew that their tactician had any doubt of what he was doing..." Robin trailed off, giving Lucina's hand a squeeze. "When I see you, I see a woman so sure of herself, so driven... I can't help but wish I was more like you."

"Robin, I do not deserve such praise. I am neither as free of doubt nor as infallible as you make it seem. I have failed so many times..." Lucina countered, taking her turn to argue against what she undoubtedly saw as an overestimation of herself, much as Robin had thought of what she had said of him. Once she was finished she averted her gaze, turning her head away slightly to stare ahead and down, looking at nothing in particular.

_Perhaps both of us ought to have a little more faith in ourselves_, Robin mused. Afterall he trusted her more than anyone else, and could she be that wrong about him? If not, well he knew in his heart she felt just the same as he did.

"Yes, but you never let it stop you. No matter how many times you've faltered, no matter the times you haven't succeeded, you've never let that stop you. You've never given up, not once," Robin reassure her. Slowly Lucina's gaze returned to his face, her expression managing to be both stern and embarrassed all at once. It was probably the blushing.

"I also love how earnest and honest you are. You alway speak what's on your mind and do exactly what you want, regardless of if others may see it as childish," He continued, his smile broadening. "You are simply a joy to be around and spent time with. Not to mention it is quite adorable."

Now Lucina's face did turn bright red. "Robin, d-don't say such things," Lucina stammered, uncharacteristically flustered.

"I can't help it, Lucina. You are just too adorable not to." He poked her gently in the ribs, Lucina giggling as she reflexively flinched away.

"Really, must you tease me so?" she scolded. Even as she said it, her face showed no real anger. Quite the contrary, she was smiling even more now, her eyes glinting with joy.

"Yes. It's part of my job as your husband. Right in the rulebook and everything. Right next to the part about 'never marry your best friend's daughter' and... Oh, wait," Robin said, laughing.

"Perhaps this 'rulebook' does not know what it's talking about, then. If anything I think breaking that last rule worked out for you very well. Coming from a certain, biased opinion," Lucina replied, laughing now too.

"I can imagine," Robin said, his lips pulled back into a big, stupid grin. "This, right here, just so happens to be another thing I love about you, Lucina. Maybe the thing I love the most, even."

"What is that?" Lucina asked, her tone taking on an almost playful note.

"It's the part that, deep down, despite the grim and weight of all you had to bear, still manages to look to the world with a wonderful innocence I can't even begin to put to words. You, for all the bad you've seen, always seem to see the best in people and accept them fully for who you are. You are patient, and kind, and so full of joy when you allow yourself to be," Robin explained. A small smile tugging at his lips. "And that's why I want you to be happy, Lucina. I want that part of you to be free. Free from all the weight of your future and the grim possibilities of your duty. Because despite the horrors you've seen and the griefs you suffered, it has never tainted your heart."

He squeezed her hand tighter, his expression softening. "That's why, as long as it's in my power, I will be there with you through it all. To be there with the Lucina who can laugh and smile at all the silly little things."

Lucina blinked, her eyes becoming misty as she looked back at him. "You said as much earlier today... But still, I thank you, Robin. Your words comfort me, to know that no matter what the future may hold, I can know you will be there." She blinked again. Then, shifting a bit closer, she leaned against Robin's shoulder. Unlike in the past she did not even hesitate for a moment and neither did he, such displays of affection now feeling natural. At least when not in public. For a moment Lucina just rested there, smiling contently. "And I am glad. Glad because I do not know what I would do without you here for me."

"Just as I need you, Lucina," Robin replied in kind, relaxing to press closer against her. "We both need each other, I think. We're more complete together than we are apart."

For another long while they fell silent, satisfied to simply enjoy eachother's company. Seconds soon turned into minutes, and then minutes became a dozen or more. It was at that moment a thought occurred to Robin, one which he could not help but act on.

"I almost forgot, I also love it when you get all embarrassed. Like this," he said, slipping a hand between them to tickle her side.

Lucina flinched away, her cheeks turning red as she swatted at his arm. "Robin, I told you not to do that. It's childish."

"Come on, you should see how adorable you are when I do. Look, you're blushing right now," Robin answered. "Admit it, it's cute."

"Well you're one to talk, I saw how you reacted when you though my father may have seen our kiss," Lucina retorted. She paused for an instant, a sudden mischievous look gracing her features. "Speaking of which, I seem to recall you promising a repeat performance of that little instance. I do hope you intend to uphold your end of the bargain."

"That can be arranged. I couldn't rightly call myself your husband if I didn't keep even that promise, now can I," Robin answered, a wry smile at his lips. Leaning in he pressed his lips against hers in a long, passionate kiss.

Lucina returned the gesture with equal fervor. Seizing hold of his coat, she fell back down onto the bed, pulling him with her. Robin laughed, their lips parting briefly in the unexpected change of position.

"I love you," Robin said breathlessly, his lips meeting her's once more.

Late as it was, neither of them seemed at all interested in sleep. Not when there were far more important things on their mind

* * *

**Author's Note****:** Well guys, this is the last frequent chapter of LAT for awhile as I switch over focus to a new Fire Emblem Story. The first chapter of that should drop about two weeks from now, and I hope everyone will take the time to check it out. All I can give for now is the title of the story, _A Future Broken_. If you want more details, well, you'll just have to read it.

I will still continue to work on LAT, just it won't be my focus and as a result new chapters will come completely at random and often months apart. Until then everyone, thank you for reading and I look forward to hearing your thoughts once my new storyline drops in two weeks.


	35. Making Memories

**Title:** Making Memories

**Description:** Robin promised he and Lucina would try to make some happy memories during their time at the Bathrealm hotsprings. So when an opportunity presents itself, he will do everything he can to make her smile.

**Notes: **Takes place during the Hotspring Scramble DLC, after the their marriage conversation in the map and before the events of chapter 34 of _Love Across Time_

* * *

Robin lunged right, avoiding a horizontal slash of the Risen's sword. He thrust out a hand, launching a burst of fire into edge of the hot spring his dodge had maneuvered between them. Hot steam burst in a sizzling plume, blinding the animated swordsman just as he launched another attack. His weapon sliced nothing but empty space, and the undead stumbled a step. It began to turn, only to jerk suddenly, the tip of a long, elegant blade inlaid with gold sprouted from the thing's chest.

"You know, I could have handled it," Robin joked, his wife appearing from behind the risen as it dissolved into foul, black smoke.

"I have no doubt, but I think we are all eager to see the day won so we can all have the well deserved rest we'd intended for this trip," Lucina answered.

"No doubt." Robin nodded, a smile pulling at his lips.

He couldn't say he disagreed with her assessment: the sooner they were done the sooner the two of them could have spent together in leisure, something he was greatly looking forward to. The fact that much of the trip had already been spent in combat was quite a bitter one to say the least, so they had a lot of lost time to make up. The good news was their progress in clearing out the Risen that had invaded the Bathrealm resort was coming along well. At this rate they would easily be done by supper, as Lucina had predicted an hour before.

Not that the fighting had been the heaviest they've seen. If it wasn their little mid battle makeout session would have been a decidedly poor idea. Speaking of which, he did owe his wife a repeat performance on that one later. Preferably when there wasn't a risk of Risen coming upon them. Or worse, Chrom.

Together the two set out through the steamy walkways that wound between hissing pools. As they walked Robin was taken by the smile on Lucina's face, which lingered even when they came upon and dispatched a trio of Risen. Even her steps seems lighter, and with far more spring in them.

"You look cheerful about something," Robin noted, smiling back at her. Even as he said this his eyes continued to wander all around them, watching the rolling mists. They were still in a battlefield and one could not be too careful.

"Well, on my way back from defeating the Risen running amok through the shops, Anna's sister approached me with the offer to try on a yukata she had in her shop," Lucina explained. "She said something about winning a contest, I quite honestly did not entirely understand what she was talking about. But she insisted and I will admit the garments were quite breathtaking so I had some interest of trying one myself."

"Oh? And did you find one you liked?" Robin asked, smiling at the joy displayed on his wife's face. Her smiles were a sight he never got tired of, not only because of how truly beautiful she seemed in those rare moments but also because of how much she deserved more reasons to smile.

"Sadly I did not have the time to try on more than one. Still it was quite lovely: blue and patterned with brands of the exalt," Lucina said practically beaming as she described the garment. She blushed, the color only serving to bring out the joyous sheen that had taken hold of her every feature. "I hoped to return once we are done with these vile Risen, but…" Her smile faltered then, fading away as she glanced back of her shoulder.

"But?" Robin repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"They were all so expensive, I fear I cannot in good conscience allow myself to indulge in something that holds no value other than to myself alone. As much as I wish it were otherwise, the time would be better spent on matters of greater importance," Lucina answered, looking away sadly.

It took but a instant and a single glance at Lucina's almost dejected expression for Robin to make up his mind. He lunged forward a step, grabbing hold of his wife's hand. A look of surprise seized upon her face and a sound somewhere between a gasp and surprised yelp fell from her throat as Robin pulled her along at a brisk pace

"Robin, what is the meaning of this?" Lucina asked, bewilderment flooding her voice. She staggered along for several steps, nearly losing her balance in the fight to get up to the sudden run Robin had taken her on.

"We're going to Anna's shop so you can try on yukatas like you wanted, of course," Robin answered.

"But what about the remaining Risen, should they not take priority?" Lucina argued, her eyes widening even further in fresh surprise at the answer he'd given.

"We are almost finished up as it is. The others can without a doubt deal with the few left shambling about," Robin replied, continuing along at a breakneck pace. "Besides, weren't you the one who suggested we ought to something together here and make some pleasant memories? Well this is what I've decided on."

"Yes, but…" The two reached the front of the hut that from the sign must have been the shop Lucina spoke of. Robin slowed, coming to a stop before the wooden steps that led up inside, turning to look at Lucina as she continued. "I understand what you are trying to do and appreciate the thought, but you do not need to do this for my sake. Besides, it is as I said, the price is quite high. It would be a shame to spend time trying on garments that I will not be able to purchase."

"Oh, that's not a problem, Lucina. I fully intend to pay for your yukata," Robin said, smiling gently. "As your husband I owe you a gift on this trip, so what better one than something you have already shown interest?"

"But…" Lucina started to argue. Even as she protested, Robin could see the hesitance in her. She wanted to accept his offer, only to be stopped by whatever feelings of guilt came with but the thought of putting her own wants above others.

"Lucina," Robin said, taking hold of her other hand. "I would not be doing this if I didn't want to. So don't even think that this is because I believe I _have _to do this. I want to give you something nice. And do not fret about it being money spent on something that is only of value to you, because if it makes you happy then it's more valuable to me then you could believe."

For a moment Lucina said nothing. Then, slowly, she nodded her head. "If you are sure it's not too much trouble… then I accept your gracious offer, my love. Only under one condition."

"Oh? And that would be?" Robin asked.

"That you buy a yukata for you to wear as well. I would feel terribly guilty were you to spend your hard earned coin without getting something for yourself," Lucina replied. The corners of her lips tugged a little, a hint of a smile returning.

"Of course, I'm sure we will look quite the pair wearing them together."

This seemed to satisfy Lucina's concerns, for a smile did return to her face. Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly, are her eyes seemed to sparkle. "Wonderful. I am glad." She clasped her hands together.

"Ready to go in then?" Robin asked, sticking out his elbow to her.

"Let's." Lucina hooked her arm around his and together they climbed the steps into the hut. Passing through the strips of cloth hanging in the doorway they found themselves in a small shop with hangers filled to the brim with yukata of many colors and designs. Behind the counter was the midnight blue haired Anna who had met them when they first arrived in Bathrealm. At least Robin thought it was the same one. Every one of the extended Anna family looked identical to one another, so it was very hard to tell if he were to be completely honest.

Anna looked up as they entered. "Welcome back, Lucina. Are you ready to try on some of the other designs I picked out for you?" Anna's eyes fell on Robin then, a smile that was more akin to a smirk spreading her lips. "Oh, I see that you brought your husband with you? Got him to pay for your little shopping trip, I assume. Having a man wrapped around your finger _does _have it's benefits, am I right," she said, her smile turning to a full blown grin. If Robin didn't know better, he would have sworn he could see stacks of gold flashing in her gaze. But that would be silly: Anna certainty would fantasize about far greater sums of coin than that.

"Well, actually he offered to. I would never impose in such a-" Lucina started to argue, her face flushed in embarrassment at Anna's insinuation.

"Say no more. No need to justify yourself before a fellow woman. I'll go get the yukatas I selected for you." Still grinning Anna ducked into the back room, returning with a stack of folded robes of many colors and patterns. The choices were certainly… bold, with lots of multi-hued garments that did not air on the side of subtlety. Anna certainty had Lucina's preferences down.

The next half an hour was a flurry of activity as Lucina changed from one yukata to the next. Each time Lucina would ask Robin for his input and each time he strived to answer is a… diplomatic manner. The last thing he wanted was to ruin her time by making mention of the positively bombastic color choices. She looked so happy: smiling and laughing as she twirled in front of the mirror each time she existed the curtained off changing area: he wouldn't take that away from her for the world.

Still, despite the less than flattering hues and patterned, Robin could not help but notice how nonetheless stunning Lucina looked in the garments. The robes perfectly accentuated Lucina's lithe build, wrapping her a look both elegant and regal without any of the daintiness of more elaborate dresses.

"So, what do you think, Robin?" Lucina asked, turning before him in an orange and blue yukata set with crimson stars. "Which one do you like the best?"

"Well I…" Robin started biting his tongue before he said something he might regret. "I am not sure, they all look great. I have an idea why don't you try on the one you mentioned you wore before. The blue one patterned with the brand of the Exalt. I'd like to see it on you before I give my final opinion."

"Of course! I will be right back," Lucina beamed. Stepping into the changing area. There was a rustle of fabric as Anna helped her into the yukata. A minute passed. Then another. Then as last Lucina stepped out from behind the curtain.

In took everything Robin had not to let his jaw drop open. The dress was a stunning sapphire blue, a shade lighter than Lucina's hair and eyes. A obi of pale golden-orange wrapped her waistline and stomach, contrasting the garment's primary hue while remaining subtle enough not to clash. So too did the patterned brand of the exalt seem understated and tasteful, so unlike the more garish examples he'd seen that day. She looked stunning. Absolutely stunning.

"Well?" Lucina asked.

"I…" Robin swallowed, his throat suddenly bone dry. "You look amazing, Lucina. I think this one suits you best."

Lucina smiled ever deeper, her cheeks darkening. "If that is so, we shall take it" Lucina said, turning to Anna as she finished, then back to Robin. "But first, now it is your turn to pick out one."

"Oh, right, I almost forgot. Let's see…" Robin said, turning to scan the display thoughtfully.

"How about that one?" Lucina offered, indicating a yellow and violet zebra patterned yukata.

"I, well… I certainly like how colorful it is, but I don't quite think it suits me," Robin said, shooting a pleading glance to Anna. "Perhaps you can give your expert opinion on what I would look good in?"

Lucina's expression brightened at this suggestion. "Oh, of course, that is a wonderful idea. You would know far more in this regard, being it is your shop." She tilted her head to regard the merchant as she finished.

"I will see what I can do," Anna said, smiling.

Robin did everything he could _not_ to sigh in relief. If given no other choice he would gladly wear anything Lucina picked out for him, his own pride being nowhere near as important as his wife's happiness. That just didn't mean he wasn't relieved whenever he could avoid having to resort to that.

Turning to the racks, the merchant began to peruse through her selection, humming as she went. "Let me see, let me see… oh, I know… should be right around… here it is"

The merchant returned to the front of the shop, yukata in hand. "Here we go, this should be about your style."

Robin looked the garment up and down. The yukata Anna selected was of the same color scheme as his coat: it's primary hue almost the exact same charcoal gray. It's inside was purple, as was the obi, the hem and collar gold. A vine pattern set in the same gold ran around the sleeves and lower part of the robe, which seemed to practically glow against the smoky cloth surrounding them.

"I like it," Robin said after a moment, nodding his head.

"In that case come right back here with me so you can try it on," Anna chimed. Before Robin could even reply she seized upon the sleeve on his coat, pulling him behind the curtain that sectioned off the changing area.

"Alright, strip," Anna said, closing the curtain behind them.

For a single heartbeat Robin could only stare dumbfoundedly, his brain stalling as it attempted to process the merchant's command.

"E-Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You need to get undressed before you can try it on," Anna told him, a smirk on her lips. "and don't even think of asking to put it on yourself. Do you know how difficult it is to wear these properly? If you ended up looking like a fool in one of my products it would be bad for business."

"I-I… alright. Just make i-it quick," Robin stammered. His face burned and he was sure it had turned a bright red

Doing as he was told he removed his clothes quickly, all the while very conscious of Anna's eyes on him. He dared not look to confirm: if he saw her ogling him even for a moment he may very well die of embarrassment on the spot.

Thankfully Anna worked quickly, helping him into the yukata in a manner of minutes, until at last he stood in the complete garment.

"Now, let's go see what your wife thinks of it," Anna said, opening the curtain for them.

Sucking in a breath, Robin stepped outside. "Well Lucina, how do I look?"

The princess eyes moved up and down over her, a smile broadening on her lips. "I must admit, you look quite dashing, Robin," she said, blushing.

"Glad to hear it. If I even look half as handsome in this as you do beautiful in yours, then I am satisfied," he said, taking his wife's hand in his.

"So, you will take them?" Anna asked.

"Of course," Robin said, before leading in and adding in a whisper "so about the cost…"

Anna whispered the price in his ear.

Robin's eyes widened. "Really?" he hissed under his breath.

Anna nodded, grinning way too cheerfully for his taste.

Groaning inwardly, Robin dug out her coin pouch, handing over the gold she required. Despite the feeling of being robbed, he supposed it was still worth it. He could part with far more if it were for Lucina's sake.

"Thank you for your business and feel free to come back any time," Anna said, stowing away the coin. "Would you like to change back into your things, or wear the yukatas? If do I can have what you don't wear delivered to your rooms," she asked.

Robin thought about it for a moment. The Risen must surely be dealt with by now, so why not. "We can stick to the yukata," he told her.

Giving another round of thanks, Robin and Lucina exited the shop hand in hand. Lucina leaned her head against his shoulder are they walked, a smile are her lips.

"So, glad I convinced you to go back?" Robin asked.

"Yes." Lucina dipped her head in a nod. "It was quite wonderful, being able to try on so many wonderful yukata. I am in your debt Robin."

"No, in that regard you are not," Robin said. Turning to face her he cupped her hands in his. "You do not owe me anything for today: seeing you smile is all the reason I needed." Leaning in close Robin pressed his lips against her's drawing out a long, passionate kiss.

Then suddenly Robin jerked back, eyes wide is fear. "Wait, your father isn't nearby, is he?!"

"Robin, I do not think-"

"I know he approved of our relationship, but I don't want to test my luck if he caught us kissing and-"

"Robin…"

"-And I am scared that he might-

"Robin!" Lucina interrupted, louder this time. She reached out, cupping the side of his face. "It's alright, nobody saw." Leaning in she kissed him on the cheek. "Come on, we still have plenty of time to make memories of this place before nightfall."

"Right, after you," Robin managed, blushing. Hand in hand once more they set out, yukata rippling in the gentle breeze. They'd already made the first memory to hold of their time together at the hotsprings, and it would surely not be the last.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, long time so see on this particular story. As I mentioned last chapter I would not be abandoning _Love Across Time, _even if it is no longer my focus right now. Thus I figured it would be a good idea to make good on that promise and post a little oneshot here. I would also like to give a shout out to ajani's apprentice, who helped me beta this.

In other news, my new ongoing Fire Emblem story, _A Future Broken_, is reaching its halfway point, which in turn is going to lead into an even larger story with let's just say… direct inclusion of a certain recent entry to the franchise. If you have not checked it out, you totally should, as it takes place in the same continuity as my other stories _A Future Disowned_ and _Love Across Time_.

Until the next time, please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I wish all of you a wonderful day.


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